


Lives of The Watson-Holmes

by Silvaimagery



Series: Improbability [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes (1970)
Genre: AU, Angst, Case, Comfort, Established Relationship, Family, Fluff, Gen, Jealousy, M/M, Murder, Parent!lock, Proposals, fem!Charles Augustus Magnussen, mystrade, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-09 06:59:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 24,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1973283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvaimagery/pseuds/Silvaimagery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every event could not always be accounted for and sometimes that is what made them special.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place ten months after the ending of ‘The Private Lives of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John H. Watson’.

I glance up at John.

He shuffles into the kitchen.

His bathrobe is open from his neck down to his lower abdomen.

His skin still glistening from his shower.

I shiver with want.

He looks my way and I pretend to be staring down into my microscope.

I hear him move to the counter.

He puts on the kettle before coming back my way.

He leans over my back.

I press my lips together.

“What are you working on?”

“Not much. Just wanted to see how long it takes for a high concentrate of chlorine bleach to eat a piece of cotton.”

I inhale his scent.

“Can I take a look?”

“Sure.”

I move a bit to the side, out of the way.

He leans over to look peer into the microscope lens, one hand on the table and the other on my thigh.

I watch as the robe pulls taunt over his backside.

He was not wearing anything underneath.

I smile.

I run my hand up the back of his knee.

He braces both his hands on the table and exhales shakily.

He was very needy.

Thankfully I was here to help him with that.

“Sherlock.” Mrs. Hudson says coming up the stairs.

John straightens and covers himself properly.

I kiss behind his ear as I stand.

“What is it?”

“You got a package.”

She walks into the sitting room.

I walk towards her and take the small rectangular box from her.

I shake it.

Something rattles inside.

“I thought we talked about you shaking unmarked boxes?” John asks coming towards me.

“You said that about Christmas presents.”

“It still counts.”

I wave a hand at him as I move to the desk.

I set the box down and stare at it.

“Where did you find it?” John asks Mrs. Hudson.

“It was on the doorstep.”

“Could have been delivered by the post man.” John says coming closer to peer at the box.

“No. Postman rings the doorbell.” I tell him.

I grab the knife off the mantle.

“You sure it’s a good idea to just open it?”

I look at him.

His shoulders are tense and he’s ready to move quickly if need be.

“It’s not a bomb John and if it was, it wouldn’t cause any serious harm. Just look at the size of the box.”

“Still dangerous.”

I cut the strings.

“Sherlock.”

“Relax John. Make me some tea.”

“Please.”

I resist rolling my eyes.

“Please.”

He walks into the kitchen.

Mrs. Hudson twines her fingers together.

I open the box slowly.

I stare down at the memory stick.

“What is it?” Mrs. Hudson asks trying to peer into the box.

I take out the memory stick.

A.G.R.A.

My heart beats faster in my chest.

“Sherlock?” John asks placing my cup on the desk.

He frowns at the memory stick.

“Do you know who sent it?”

“Charlize.”

His eyes darken.

I pull out my phone.

Why have you parted with it? –S.H.

Where are you? –S.H.

Mycroft, I might need your help. –S.H.

Something disturbing has happened. I am pulling up now. –M.H.

I pace.

Why aren’t you answering me?-S.H.

Mycroft enters the sitting room, his face tight.

“What happened?” I ask.

He sighs and steps aside from the doorway.

Anthea enters carrying a child.

Dark hair, porcelain skin, a month old, would need to be changed in three minutes.

Oh.

I look at Mycroft.

“I told you to stay away from Magnussen.” He says with a glare.

“When have I ever listened to your orders?”

“This is not a game. You have a responsibility now!”

Still overemotional.

His goldfish might be showing some interest.

“Sherlock?” John asks.

“I don’t have time for this right now. Magnussen is in trouble.” I tell my brother.

He schools his expression.

The British Government is intrigued.

I know Magnussen threaded that line between enemy and ally.

Is all just depended on how Mycroft saw her at this moment.

“How do you know?”

“She sent me this.”

I hand him the memory stick.

He looks down at it.

“A.G.R.A.” He reads.

“What does it mean?” John asks.

“It holds valuable information. Magnussen told me so. Means the owner of the information has come for it.”

“Why would she send it to you?”

I glance at the child and then look back at Mycroft.

“I see.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” John asks.

“I will send someone to check it out.” Mycroft says handing me back the memory stick.

“They don’t have a way in.”

I grab my coat and my scarf.

“Stop ignoring me and tell me what the hell is going on.” John insist.

“She had to have timed it perfectly. She knew her life was in danger so she sent the memory stick and the child to distract me and keep me away.” I tell my brother.

John would have to wait.

“Perhaps it’s for the best.” Mycroft says.

I know he really doesn’t think so.

But he wants to be convinced.

“Magnussen has information. She can be useful to us.” I tell him.

He considers it.

“Alright. I will have people waiting. You call me at any sign of danger and I do mean any Sherlock.”

“Hold on.” John says.

“No time to explain now.” 

I kiss him before sweeping out of the flat. 

Magnussen wouldn’t be at Appledore.

No one could get in without detection.

Which meant that she was in London.

Cab pulls up.

“CAM Global News building.” I instruct the cabby. “Make it quick.”

I take out the key card from my coat pocket.

Magnussen would have noticed it missing.

But she hadn’t said anything.

I tap the edge of the key card against my bottom lip.

Why?

If she already knew that Mary, or rather Amanda, was going to come for the memory stick, why not just flee? Why not call in more reinforcements to secure her?

Instead she was allowing Mary (Amanda) to come in.

But why?

WHY!?

I close my eyes and travel through my mind palace.

I open the study door.

Magnussen looks at me.

“Have you figured it out?” She asks.

“You said some things.”

“Hmm, I said many things.”

“You have already told me why. You knew she would come eventually.”

“As I said, not the most brilliant.”

I walk towards her.

She takes a sip of her brandy.

“You knew Amanda was going to come for you.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you run?”

“Appledore vaults don’t exist.”

“The information you have of Amanda is not located in your vaults.”

She smiles.

“No.”

_“How much information?”_

_“Everything.”_

_“How big is your advantage?”_

_“Big enough to send her to prison for a lifetime.”_

_“Amanda and I know each other.”_

_“AG.R.A.” ___

__I open my eyes._ _

__Charles Augustus._ _

__“Stop here.”_ _

__The cabby stops._ _

__I throw some money at him before running towards the building._ _

__It might be too late._ _

__I head towards Magnussen’s private lift._ _

__The key card still worked._ _

__Magnussen had played Mary exactly the way she wanted._ _

__She had led her into a trap and Mary had been too focused on getting the memory stick that she didn’t stop to think._ _

__The lift opens._ _

__The office is dark, only the lamp on Janine’s desk is on._ _

__I walk in quietly._ _

__Janine was down by the windows._ _

__I crouch and check her pulse._ _

__Still alive._ _

__Hit from behind, would not be able to identify her attacker._ _

__CAM Global News building. Secretary has been rendered unconscious. –S.H._ _

__I have already sent word to paramedics.-M.H._ _

__I have a team of men moving in on your location. –M.H._ _

__Magnussen? –M.H._ _

__I start as gun is fired._ _

__Shot fired. Send your men in now! –S.H._ _

__I run towards the conference room._ _

__Magnussen was on the floor._ _

__Gunshot wound to the head._ _

__I cover my mouth._ _

__Mary turns the gun on me._ _

__I kick it out of her hand and throw her onto the floor._ _

__We tussle for a moment but I get the upper hand._ _

__Her nails try to scratch my face._ _

__“Stop resisting.”_ _

__“You shouldn’t be here.” She tells me._ _

__I flip her onto her stomach and pull her hands behind her back._ _

__Good thing I still had the handcuffs in my coat pocket._ _

__“It is you who shouldn’t be here, Amanda.”_ _

__She laughs bitterly._ _

__“Magnussen told you.”_ _

__She shakes her head in disbelief._ _

__“She told me a lot of things.”_ _

__Her eyes glaze over with tears._ _

__She is trying to gain sympathy from me._ _

__Might have worked if she hadn’t just killed the mother of my child._ _

__I press my knee into the middle of her back._ _

__She groans._ _

__“You don’t understand. I had to get back what she stole from me. I am not the villain here Sherlock.”_ _

__“You could have asked for help.”_ _

__“Magnussen wouldn’t have listened. I had to take action.”_ _

__“She had a child.”_ _

__“How many families do you think she ripped apart? How many innocent lives lost because of her?”_ _

__I stare down at her._ _

__“John was too good for you.”_ _

__I sit her up._ _

__She glares at me._ _

__“And I suppose you think that you can make him happy.”_ _

__“How long before the nightmares started? How long was it really before he got bored of the life you wanted?”_ _

__She doesn’t answer._ _

__“It’s best if you don’t try to play the victim. You were never innocent.”_ _

__“Neither was she. And yet here you are, her knight in shining armor.”_ _

__“There was still time for you to seek aid in regaining what she took. Why didn’t you come to me?”_ _

__She shrugs._ _

__“She would have asked for too much in return. More than I would have been willing to pay.”_ _

__The buzzer beeps in the other room._ _

__I stand Amanda up and lead her back to the reception area._ _

__I allow Mycroft’s men into the private lift._ _

__“John?” Amanda asks._ _

__I glare at her._ _

__“I am glad he is no longer involved with someone like you.”_ _

__“Someone like me? You’re one to talk. Out of the two of us which one of us do you think would have caused him more harm? I lied to protect him and that is all I am guilty of. But you.” She scoffs._ _

__“According to Magnussen you are guilty of much more than that.”_ _

__The smile vanishes from her face and it makes me happy._ _

__“Don’t kid yourself into thinking that you came out as hero here today Sherlock. People like me exist to put people like Charlize Augustus Magnussen down.”_ _

__“Apparently she felt the same way about you.”_ _

__“What do you mean?”_ _

__I show her the memory stick._ _

__Her eyes widen._ _

__“She has enough information to put you down for a lifetime. I have to say, it is no surprise you two were related.”_ _

__She thins her lips in anger._ _

__The lift opens and Mycroft’s team moves in, paramedics behind them._ _

__“Young female by the windows, unconscious. Not serious harm, might have a concussion when she wakes up. Magnussen is dead in the conference room, gunshot wound to the head. You will find the weapon there as well.”_ _

__“We’ll take it from here Mr. Holmes.”_ _

__I nod and leave Amanda in their custody._ _

__“Sherlock.” She calls._ _

__I turn to look at her._ _

__“Please don’t tell John.”_ _

__A hot ball of jealousy lodges itself deep in my belly._ _

__“What does it matter now? He doesn’t love you.”_ _

__“I don’t want him to hate me.”_ _

__I chuckle._ _

__“Oh he will definitely hate you.”_ _

__“I loved him, I still do. I am asking you, please.”_ _

__I stare at her._ _

__“She was right.”_ _

__She blinks her eyes in confusion._ _

__“What?”_ _

__“Magnussen. I wouldn’t have figured you out until it was too late. I will enjoy your court case.”_ _

__“Sherlock.”_ _

__“So long Mrs. Augustus.”_ _


	2. Chapter 2

Wailing cries greet me as I enter 221B.

I take a moment at the stairs.

My child.

My child was up there with my Heart.

John would accept him as his own.

I was positive about it.

He had wanted children after all.

I nod to myself.

I walk up to the flat.

“Sherlock. Where in the hell have you been?” John demands.

He is flustered and overwhelmed.

The boy screams again and John winces.

I was surprised Mrs. Hudson hadn’t come up to investigate the noise.

It was too early for herbal soothers.

John bounces the child in his arms, trying to get him to calm down.

He wasn’t going to stop crying.

Not like that.

I take the boy from him and hold him close to my chest making sure to lay his ear over my heart.

I card my fingers through his sweat soaked hair.

“Thank you for telling me where you were going or even if it was safe. Meanwhile I’m stuck here with your brother, his PA and Mrs. Hudson while I am practically naked.”

“Don’t be silly John. You’re wearing a robe.”

“Like that makes any bit of difference. I know your brother and Anthea knew I wasn’t wearing any pants by the side glances they kept giving me. It is enough to put me off sex for weeks.”

More like three days.

“And then they just shove the kid at me and walk out without even saying anything. Which reminds me, thank you so much for leaving me here to suffer. I am so glad you deigned to come back in just, oh three hours.”

“Magnussen is dead.”

“What?”

“She was murdered.”

John puts a hand to his forehead and takes deep breaths in and out for a moment.

“Christ.”

It was best to just get it all out there.

John didn’t like to be given bad news in bits.

He preferred to deal with it all at once.

That way he could take time to process his feelings.

“Did you catch the killer?”

“Yes.”

“Who was it?”

I kiss my sons forehead.

His breaths coming out in short hiccups but at least he stopped shouting.

“Sit down.” I tell John.

“For what?”

“Just do as I say.”

He sits in his chair and crosses his arms.

“Alright. Go on and tell me.”

“How much did you know about Mary?”

He frowns.

“What has that got to do with anything?”

“Just tell me.”

He shrugs.

“She is a nurse and an only child, has lived in London her whole life. That’s it.”

I sigh.

My son fists his little hand in my shirt.

I rub his back soothingly.

“No wait. She also loves cats. Now are you going to tell me what the hell is going on and why we are looking after a newborn?”

I stare at him.

He cocks an eyebrow.

“Her name is not Mary Morstan, she took that name and identity five years ago. Her accent is currently English but she is not. Her real name is Amanda and she was an intelligence agent. She was on the run for some reason, I don’t know from what or who. But Magnussen knew, she had information. Enough to put Amanda in prison for the rest of her life.”

“Hold on. Are saying that Mary…what are you saying?”

I swallow.

“Her name is Amanda Grace Reynard Augustus.”

Come on John.

Don’t make me spell it all out for you.

“What?”

“She killed Magnussen. Whatever information is on the memory stick, it was important. Very important as indicated by the bullet hole she left in Magnussen’s forehead.”

“Jesus.”

“Amanda was married to Magnussen’s uncle. High probability that she killed him too.”

“Oh my god.”

He stands and paces.

I watch him carefully.

“I lived with her for two months.”

“I know. I doubt she meant to harm you.”

“I just can’t, I can’t believe I was shacked up with a murderer.”

“Well. You are acclimatized to violence.”

“Don’t. Now is not the time for you to get cute with me.”

I bite back my smile.

Inappropriate reaction to the serious situation.

“Sorry.”

“What about the baby?”

This was going to be a bit not good.

“He is Magnussen’s child.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god!”

“Shh.”

His pacing becomes more agitated.

“I can’t believe that…woman would kill someone who had just given birth.”

“At least she waited until the child had been born.”

He rubs his face.

“That’s even worse!”

The baby starts in my arms.

“Keep it down.”

“I can’t keep it down Sherlock. I just found out that the woman I was engaged to is a murderer and now she’s left an infant without his mother.”

“It gets a bit worse.”

“How can it get worse?”

“Remember when Magnussen asked me to have a child with her?”

He stares at me.

“Oh no. Tell me you didn’t.”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.” I shrug.

Or at least I try to without jostling the baby too much.

“How is having a child with a psychopath a good idea?”

“She wasn’t a psychopath, she just enjoyed exploiting people.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“It wasn’t supposed to.”

“So what? This is your son?”

“Yes.”

He clenches his fists.

“You told me you hadn’t had sex with anyone.”

He was jealous.

“I hadn’t.”

“Generally people get pregnant when they have unprotected sex!”

The baby whines.

I cradle him in my left arm and cover his little sensitive ear with my other hand.

“We didn’t have sex. Even thinking about it makes my stomach turn. She was injected with my sperm.”

“I can’t believe you made this decision without telling me or that you concealed it after we got together.”

“You were engaged to Mary at the time. I figured I didn’t need your permission seeing as how you were having sex with someone else.” I spit.

He glares at me.

“What about after when we got together?”

“Magnussen was adamant that I have no contact with the child. I didn’t think it was important to tell you.”

“Not important?”

Okay.

Might have been the wrong thing to say.

Time to defuse the situation.

I sway slowly from side to side.

John watches my movement.

Slowly his shoulders start to relax.

“So what now?” He asks.

“I’m not giving him up if that’s what you mean.”

“You think that we can raise a child and not screw him up so badly that even his therapist will need a therapist?”

I look at him.

We.

I smile.

“I have on good authority that you and I are ordinary compared to the life he would have led with Magnussen.”

He shivers.

“Christ. Poor kid.”

He comes closer to look down at the baby.

“He is rather cute.” He says touching the baby’s cheek. “When he’s not screaming in my ear.”

My smile becomes wider.

He smiles back.

“So. We’re really going to do this?”

“What?”

“You know. Have a family.”

“Why not?”

“I just didn’t peg you for the parental type.”

“If my parents could do it then so can I.”

He scrunches up his face.

“I can’t imagine what you and Mycroft must have been like.”

“The usual. Mycroft liked cake and I liked collecting frogs.”

“As pets?”

I think back at all my controlled experiments.

“Uhh, no.”

“I’m sorry I asked.”

I wave him away.

“We’ll learn on the way. Isn’t that typically the way normal people learn to be parents?”

“Well yes. But we don’t really lead a normal life now do we?”

“What best way for a child to learn than to get firsthand experience of a crime scene?”

“We are not taking our son to a crime scene.”

Our son.

I resist the urge to clap and spin around.

John never disappointed.

“We’ll see.”

“No. Not ‘we’ll see’. We are not taking him to a crime scene. End of discussion.”

No it wasn’t.

I turn and walk towards our room.

John follows me.

I lay the baby down and arrange some pillows around him.

“He will sleep here until Mycroft brings him suitable baby furniture.”

“Why would your brother buy those things?”

“Because he would rather his nephew sleep on expensive color coordinated things than the cheap furniture you would buy.”

“Oi!”

“It’s fine. Something less to worry about. You know all about formulas and diapers right? You are a doctor after all.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Good evening.”

“Evening.” John answers.

I clench my teeth.

John is sitting at the sofa staring hypnotically at the child in his arms.

I was taking the moment to conduct an experiment.

Now Mycroft had ruined the perfectly comfortable ambiance.

“What do you want?”

“So nice to see you too brother.”

“Get on with it Mycroft.”

I stand and move to my chair.

“I stopped by to bring you this.”

He holds out an envelope towards me.

“What is it?”

“Open it and see unless you’d rather take a guess.” He smiles.

I glare at him before ripping the envelope out of his hand.

“Sherlock.” John reprimands.

I ignore him.

I open the official looking envelope and pull out the documents within.

It was a birth certificate.

John and I had been named the parents.

I look up at Mycroft.

“I assure you that I had nothing to do with it. It appears that Ms. Magnussen thought of everything.” He says.

“What is it?” John asks.

“It appears that you and I are officially the parents of…oh for goodness sake!”

Mycroft smirks.

“Name not to your liking?”

“She named him?” John asks.

I sigh angrily.

“Well what’s his name then?”

“Hamish Augustus Watson-Holmes.” I say.

“Are you being serious Sherlock?”

“Of course I’m being serious.” 

“Why would she give him my name?” John asks.

“As I have recently stated, Ms. Magnussen thought of everything.” Mycroft tells him.

“Yes. Except how to avoid being murdered apparently.”

“Yes well. Sometimes miscalculations occur. Of course you know all about that don’t you Sherlock?”

How much trouble would I get into if I did murder the British Government?

“Far too much.” He says.

I sigh angrily and he takes the moment to sit in John’s chair.

“I have purchased all necessary items for the child. They will arrive tomorrow morning and they will be assembled for you. Anthea will deliver nappies, bottles, formula and such in ten minutes.”

“Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” John says.

I roll my eyes.

“He is my nephew after all.”

I stare at him.

“Is that really the reason?”

He looks at me.

“Of course. What other purpose would I have for buying supplies for a child?”

“Hmm.”

“Wait. Are you saying that your brother….that he…”

Yes.

I was too grossed out by the idea of Mycroft having children as well.

And he might be more inclined to procure them naturally.

I shiver in disgust and delete that thought immediately.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Mycroft says.

Ugh.

Delete! Delete!

“So you don’t have a girlfriend?” John asks.

I study Mycroft.

He chuckles.

“No. Not a girlfriend. At least not the hopes of a girlfriend. You met someone.” I tell him.

He stands.

“I wish you both the best of luck.”

“Wait. Don’t rush off.” John tells him.

“Yes. Linger a little longer.”

He turns to glance disapprovingly at me.

Still keeping off the weight.

And he was wearing a tie he would never buy for himself.

A gift from his prospect lover.

UGH!

Delete.

I stand and pace to the window.

I needed a distraction. Now.

“Do you want to hold him?” John asks offering the baby.

Mycroft looks stunned.

I smile.

He clears his throat and manages to get his surprise under control.

“I think it’s best if I don’t.”

“Oh come on Mycroft. I am sure you can handle holding an infant.” I taunt.

He glares back at me.

“Yes. But I’d rather not.”

I face the desk and take out the memory stick.

I hold it out to him.

“Take it and use the information.”

John watches us.

“Mrs. Augustus is going to be prosecuted for murder. I assure that she won’t get away with it. I don’t think Ms. Magnussen wanted me to come into possession of that.” He says nodding at the memory stick.

“I don’t care. If there is something on here that can help you then by all means.”

He looks surprised again.

“Thank you.” He says taking it.

“By the way John, Amanda has asked to speak with you.”

John clenches his jaw and holds the baby closer.

“No.”

Mycroft and I look at each other.

John was angry right now.

But once it passed he would regret not going to see Mary.

“John.” I say.

“I don’t want to see that woman much less talk to her.” He snaps then takes a deep breath.

He kisses the baby’s hand.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you. But I just can’t look at her knowing what she did and what she is.”

“If that is your wish then I will pass it on.” Mycroft says.

John nods.

“I will make sure to make good use of the information Magnussen gave you.”

“Do so.”

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me.” He says.

“Thank you.” John says.

Mycroft nods.

“John. Brother.”

He walks out.

“I suppose we better start moving things out of the upstairs bedroom.”

“Don’t bother. Mycroft’s team will sort it all out. Though it’s best if you remove your explicit material before they arrive.”

“What?”

I look pointedly at him.

He clears his throat.

“Yes. Well. I suppose I should throw those out.”

“No. It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

“Shut up.”

“I am sure you kept all your favorites.”

“Sherlock.”

“Probably know them all by heart.”

“I mean it, shut it.”

“Come on. You can still keep your wanking material under your pillow. I promise not to look.”

He stands.

“I’m not talking to you.”

I chuckle.

“Mr. Holmes asked me to bring this by.” Anthea says stepping into the flat.

“Yes. Thank you. Just put them anywhere.” John tells her.

She places the shop bags on the coffee table.

I study her.

“You know who it is. You have to.” I say walking up to her.

She keeps her face neutral.

“Don’t mind him.” John tells her.

“Come now Anthea. Don’t give me that look. What are secrets between friends?”

She smiles.

“Exactly.” She nods before walking out.

I stare after her.

“I think she’s going to be harder to crack.” John points out.

“I have a way of wearing people down. Just ask Lestrade.”

“Alright then.” 

He walks towards me and settles Hamish in my arms.

I frown at him.

“It’s your turn.”

“What?”

 

“Don’t start.”

“John.”

“No.”

“Why do I have to do it? You’re the doctor.”

“What does that have to do with changing a nappy?”

“I don’t know how.”

“I showed you earlier.”

“I must have deleted it.”

“Well undelete it.”

He sits in his chair.

I stare at him but he doesn’t pay attention to me.

“Fine.”

I look through the bags Anthea dropped off.

“See? Parenthood is maturing you already.” He says.

“Oh shut up.”

Hamish stares up at me.

“He can be an idiot but he’s good for the work.”

“Don’t talk about me like that to our son.”

“And we love him, sometimes. When he’s not being so ordinary and boring.”

“Cut it out.”

“Hmm. Make me.”

He sighs angrily.

“Nope. You’re winding me up. And then I’ll end up changing the nappy. Well it’s not going to work.”

“It’s not too early for you to learn. Better start with procreation.” 

Hamish looks interested.

John turns on the telly to drown me out.

“Might give you a visual later. So make sure you’re paying attention.”

“Not going to happen.” John says.

“Hmm? Did you say something?”

He ignores me.

I smile down at Hamish.

“That way you won’t ask stupid questions like: where do babies come from? Or what is this thing between my legs for?”

“For god’s sake Sherlock!”

I look at John.

“I am having a discussion with our son so if you don’t mind keeping it down.”

“You are being inappropriate.”

“How? I doubt he’s going to remember much.”

I look down at Hamish.

“Are you? I don’t think you’ve grasped the concept of a mind palace yet.”

He blinks, looking thoughtful.

“Just give him here.” John says reaching for Hamish.

I hold him out of reach.

“I can do it.”

“Fine. Then I’m going out.”

“You don’t mind if Hamish and I root through your ‘collection’ do you?”

“Argh!”

I chuckle.

I cuddle Hamish.

“Keep that in your mind palace for when you’re bored. He can be very entertaining if you put a little effort into it.”

Hamish smiles up at me.

“Alright. Let’s see about getting you all settled then.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Sherlock.”

“Hmm?”

He enters the sitting room and looks around.

“Where is Hamish?”

“Asleep. I got bored watching him. He does that a lot.”

“He’s an infant. They basically just sleep.”

“Well I hope he grows out of it soon.”

“Might be a while. Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

I stare at the e-mails flooding my inbox.

How incredibly dull and boring.

I delete most of them.

“Are you listening to me?”

“What?”

He closes my laptop.

I stare at him.

“I was reading.”

“It can wait.”

I sit back and cross my arms.

“What is it then?”

He had gone out for a few drinks with Lestrade.

“I grabbed a couple of pints with Lestrade.”

“I know that.”

“Shut up and listen.”

“Are you still upset about earlier? Hamish and I were just winding you up for fun.”

“Really? You’re going to involve the baby in your stupid ideas?”

“He seemed to be enjoying it.”

“Sherlock.”

“What?”

“It’s Greg.”

Greg?

“Greg who?”

“Are you serious?”

I shrug.

“Your brother is dating Greg.”

“Mycroft doesn’t know a Greg. Neither do we for that matter.”

I open my laptop again.

He closes it, barely missing my fingers.

I glare at him.

“Listen carefully. Your brother is dating Greg.” He says slowly.

“I’m not an idiot. I heard you the first time.”

I don’t know who Greg is.

John didn’t have any new friends.

He would have shuffled awkwardly before telling me he had made a new friend.

It was like he was embarrassed or something.

Which I supposed he should be.

Why does he need anyone else beside me?

All those other people just make him even slower.

“Sherlock. Lestrade is Greg.”

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“Shh!”

“Did you just listen to what I said?”

“Yes John. Graham is Lestrade.”

“Greg.”

“Greg.”

“All this time you’ve been trying to figure out who your brother is in love with and you just missed it.”

“How could I have missed it?”

“I just told you!”

He did?

“How do you know?”

“Because Greg is incredibly chatty when he’s sloshed.”

Greg. Greg.

He sighs impatiently.

“Don’t delete it this time. Greg is Lestrade’s first name.”

“I thought it was Graham?”

“You are being incredibly dense for a genius.”

“Fine. I get it. Lestrade is Greg. What does that have to do with-”

No.

He nods.

“There is no way Mycroft would be interested in Lestrade.”

He frowns.

“Don’t be like that. Lestrade had been a good friend.”

Once again John is focusing on the wrong thing.

“What does that have to do with anything!?”

“Keep it down will you?”

“No. It has to be a mistake. Maybe Lestrade is having fantasies about Mycroft. Although why anyone would is beyond me.”

“Eww.”

“Exactly. It doesn’t make sense John.”

“You said that once you’ve ruled out the impossible whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”

That he remembers.

Convenient how he forgets to bring bacteria cultures when I need them.

“And?”

“We know that Mycroft kidnapped Greg, the way he did with me. Maybe they got on and decided to have a crack at it.”

Crack. At. It.

“Do you think you’re being funny?”

He smiles.

“Serves you right.”

“What did…?”

I frown.

“Greg.”

“What did Greg say exactly? Word for word.”

I steeple my fingers.

“I can’t remember word for word.”

“Just concentrate.”

“He asked how you were. I said that you were being a bastard again. We talked shit about you for a while. Then he asked after Hamish which I thought was weird because we haven’t told anyone. I mean, we just got him today. So I asked how he knew and he got this shifty look in his eyes and then he just confessed.”

I motion for him to continue.

“Apparently it just happened.”

“What ‘apparently just happened’?”

He shrugs.

I sigh angrily.

“He said that he’d been meeting up with Mycroft more often and that he had suggested that Mycroft just call instead of kidnapping him. Mycroft apparently said something flirty back to which Greg responded in kind. And then Mycroft took him to dinner and it just evolved from there. Christmas was their first anniversary but they couldn’t spend in together because Mummy had made it clear that Mycroft was to attend. Mycroft was worried that you had figured out that he was interested in someone and thought it was best if Greg didn’t go. I think Greg’s feelings were a bit hurt by that but when Mycroft got back, they celebrated Christmas and he said it was romantic.”

“Romantic?”

“That’s what he said. Anyway, they are an item now apparently. I really can’t picture Mycroft being more than tight lipped and intimidating.”

I smirk to myself.

“I’m sure Lestrade found out how tight Mycroft is.”

Ah sweet revenge.

“Sherlock!”

“What? Is that not the right expression?”

“You know damn well that it isn’t. Oh god, now I’m picturing it you bastard.”

I chuckle.

“You started it.”

“Yours was worse than mine.”

“Thank you.”

He moves towards the bathroom.

“Where are you going?”

“I need to find a way to scrub out my brain.”

I snicker.

“Good luck with that then.”

He looks at me.

“Greg seemed genuinely happy. You know the kind of shit his wife put him through.”

“Ex-wife.”

“Whatever. He’s our friend, you should be happy he found someone.”

He walks into the bathroom.

Happy?

That Lestrade is satisfying his carnal urges with my brother?

I shiver in disgust and reading my mind, Hamish begins to cry.

“I know. It’s horrible.” I say picking him up.

His face tells me he’s hungry.

“John!”

“Heat the water yourself Sherlock.” He calls back.

“But I’m holding the baby.”

“It’s called multi-tasking.”

“I know what multi-tasking is.”

Hamish whines.

“Fine.”

I cradle him in one arm and turn the kettle on.

John turns on the shower.

“He’s a bit drunk. And people think I’m the irresponsible one.”

I grab the formula and read the instructions.

Tedious.

“Might have to ask Mycroft to get you some real milk.”

Hamish agrees.

I place the powdered substance in the bottle.

The kettle boils and I pour the water.

It smells horrible.

I put the nipple on the bottle and shake it the way I had seen John do.

I have to test it on my wrist.

I take Hamish and the bottle back to the room.

I lay him on the bed and test the milk.

It’s hot and tastes as bad as it smells.

“John!”

“I’m in the shower!”

“This milk is horrible! I can’t feed it to him.”

“Just give him the milk Sherlock. It has vitamins and such that are good for him.”

I walk back to the room.

Hamish stares up at me.

“Apparently it’s good for you.”

He thinks about it.

“I know. But just eat a bit until I can get Mycroft to get you some milk.”

I place the bottle in the freezer to cool it down at bit.

I take Hamish on a tour of the flat while we wait.

He agrees that the skull is the best feature of the flat.

“The milk or milk like substance has been in the freezer long enough.”

I take the bottle out.

I carry both it and Hamish back to the room.

“Yep. Cool enough.”

I lie down next to Hamish and feed him.

He seems to be enjoying it and hasn’t complained about the taste.

I remember to burp him when he is done before laying him back down.

When I open my eyes, it is six in the morning and Hamish is kicking at my leg.

John is sleeping.

I take Hamish into the sitting room.

I bundle him up with the blanket off of John’s chair.

“John told me not to delete something last night but while I was resting I seem to have deleted it. It couldn’t have been too important or I would have remembered.”

Hamish agrees.

“Sherlock?”

“Ah, Mrs. Hudson.”

“Is that a baby?”

“Yes of course it’s a baby.”

“Whose is it then?”

“Mine and John’s.”

“You had a baby! How wonderful dear. I am as so happy. Well let me see the little darling.”

I hand Hamish over.

“Oh just look at him. He looks a lot like you.”

I nod.

I feel oddly proud that Mrs. Hudson is fussing over Hamish.

As well she should be.

He was my son after all.

“What’s his name?”

“Hamish.”

“Isn’t that John’s middle name?”

“Yes.”

“How sweet of you Sherlock.”

It would have been had I picked the name.

But then of course I would have picked something else.

“Hello love.” She says smiling down at Hamish.

Hamish takes her finger in his hand.

Mrs. Hudson makes kissy faces at him.

Okay.

She was getting a bit out of control now.

“You’re such a lucky little man to have a daddy like Sherlock and John. Yes you are.”

Little man.

I smirk.

That’s what Mummy called Mycroft until he was twenty.

Wait.

Mycroft.

Lestrade.

Goldfish.

“That fat selfish son of a bitch!”

“Sherlock!” Mrs. Hudson admonishes.

“I need you to watch Hamish while John sleeps.”

“Where are you going?”

“I have important business to attend to.”

I kiss Hamish’s head.

“He hasn’t eaten yet and his nappy will need to be changed.” I instruct.

“Get used to him dashing off like that. Well, let’s get you fed then.” I hear her tell Hamish before I walk out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I go a bit out of character with Sherlock and John. It was vital to the chapter, besides they do act like children when they are alone. But I will try to keep true to the characters as much as I can.


	5. Chapter 5

I storm out of the lift.

How dare he?

Lestrade is standing by Donovan’s desk.

He’s on the phone.

It isn’t my brother or he would have sought the privacy of his office.

Lestrade looks at me.

“He’s just arrived.”

John.

Damn it!

“Yeah, I’ll tell him. See you later mate.”

He ends the call.

“What are you doing here so early?”

“I have to talk to you.”

“Yeah? John said to tell you to get your arse back home.”

Donovan snickers.

I grab his arm and pull him towards his office.

“Hold on a minute.” Lestrade says trying to break my hold.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing Freak?” Donovan demands.

I shove Lestrade into his office and I turn to face Sally.

“Piss off Donovan.”

The look on her face is priceless.

I slam the door shut.

I whirl around to face Lestrade.

“What’s gotten into you? You and John having a domestic?”

“Where do you get off?”

“Sorry?”

“As well as you should be.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Not the first time you said those words but in this situation I think it is only fair that you keep up.”

“Sherlock.”

“Mycroft.” I spit out.

Realization dawns on his face.

“Umm.”

“Well? I am waiting for your explanation Inspector.”

He sits in his chair.

“I was hoping I had dreamed confessing that part of my life to John. Or at least that he would have been good enough not to tell you.”

“John is the best man you and I will ever know, now tell me what the hell you were thinking getting involved with Mycroft.”

“Look Sherlock. Now I know this is hard for you but it really is none of your business.”

“None of my business? You are having an intimate relationship with my brother, who happens to be the British Government in case you’ve overlooked it, and you think that it somehow doesn’t involve me?”

“I’m not usually thinking about you when I’m shagging your brother and I hope to god that he isn’t either.”

Expression deleted.

“I should have known it was you. You were always so eager to follow my brother’s orders. He considers you to be my handler, why else would he get involved with you?”

“Listen here you inconsiderate prick, your brother and I are together because we like each other. And maybe it won’t turn out to be long term but it’s nice. It’s nice to have someone who cares if I’m home or not. It’s nice knowing I have someone who is concerned for my general wellbeing and who wants to make me happy. I like your brother very much. You’re just going to have to deal with it Sherlock.”

“It’s Mycroft!”

“So what? Does that mean he doesn’t deserve to be loved?”

“Mycroft doesn’t do love. He doesn’t know what to do with the overload of emotions.”

“He’s not too different from you. Though at least he learned manners and is willing to have a conversation about dull things.”

“Mycroft is very good at pretending.”

“So are you. Look, I am not going to pretend to understand how your sibling relationship works. I’m not even going to try because all it’s going to get me is a headache. But I need you to understand something.”

“What.”

“I am not going to stop dating your brother because it makes you uncomfortable to think of Mycroft as a human being with normal human urges.”

Comment deleted.

“Just because he’s good at pretending he’s ordinary doesn’t mean he is. As you said, Mycroft and I aren’t all that different.”

No matter how much it pains me to admit it.

“Sherlock.” He sighs.

“Good day Detective Inspector.”

I make sure to slam the door on my way out.

That will show him for consorting with my archenemy.

“Sherlock!”

Anderson is smiling at me and moving my way quickly.

He will try to hug me.

I pull my coat tighter around me.

“Anderson.”

“Come on. Call me Phillip.”

He hugs me.

I resist the urge to push him away only because Sally is watching.

“How are you?” He asks holding onto my arms.

“Fine.”

He’s still smiling at me, all teeth.

“Listen. I was wondering if you were willing to give me an account of how you did it.”

Ah yes.

The Fall.

“So sorry, I can’t stay and chat. I’ve got to dash.”

“I’ll walk with you.”

He puts an arm around my shoulders and leads me to the elevators.

Oh god.

“I wanted it to be an exclusive story you know. For the fan site.”

Fan site.

“I never give away my secrets.”

“Come on Sherl!”

Sherl.

“We all have been dying to know how you did it. At least think about it.”

I nod.

“Good. You know that the fandom has been going crazy.”

“Fandom?”

“Yes. Everyone has been posting their theories on how you did it.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah. So just let me know. I can give you my number.”

“Not necessary.”

“Right. Look who I’m telling. It’s Sherlock Holmes! You probably already have my number.”

No.

“Or just send me a message on the website.”

Website.

“It’s www.theemptyhearse.uk.org. Just send me a private message or post it. I’m sure the members will be happy to know that you visited the site.” He laughs.

“Right.”

“I’ll see you around buddy. Take care and give my love to John.”

He pats my back before moving away.

Donovan is still staring at me.

I smirk her way and she turns away in a huff.

*********************

When I walk into the building, there are men moving in and out of the flat.

I can hear John up in the second bedroom instructing the movers.

I make my way into the sitting room.

I remove my coat and my scarf and place them in my chair.

Mrs. Hudson is in the kitchen washing dishes.

“Oh Sherlock, you’re back.”

“Yes.”

Obviously.

“Sherlock.” John calls as he comes down the stairs.

“In here.”

He stares at me from the doorway.

“You alright?” He asks.

“Fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Just because Mycroft is trying to turn my friends against me.

“Greg said he might have hurt your feelings.”

I scoff.

“Hurt my feelings?”

“Yeah. Well, that’s what he thinks anyways. But I’m sure you’re going to deny it.”

He walks closer, Hamish fussing in his arms.

“There’s too much noise.” I say taking our son.

“Listen, Sherlock.”

“Nope.”

“Just try to remember that your brother is going to be juggling work and a romantic life. He might not have as much free time to drop by.”

I smile at John.

My John.

Always knew how to make me feel better.

I walk over and kiss him soundly.

Mrs. Hudson makes happy noises.

John blushes.

“I better go on and tell them where to put everything.”

“Yes. Go and command people Captain.”

He goes back upstairs.

“How nice that your brother found someone.” Mrs. Hudson says. “Maybe now the two of you won’t be at each other’s throats when he stops by for a chat.”

I sit in my chair.

“Unlikely.”

“Do your parent’s know they have a grandchild?”

“Bite your tongue. If they did find out I would never be able to get rid of them.”

“Oh don’t say those things. I never had grandchildren but I imagine it would be wonderful.”

“What are you talking about? You have Hamish.”

“Oh Sherlock.”

She comes towards me.

I should have kept my mouth shut.

Maybe Magnussen had been right.

Having a child did make one more susceptible to sentimentality.

Mrs. Hudson throws her arms around my neck and squeezes me tight.

If I didn’t know better I would have thought she was trying to choke me.

“Yes. Alright.”

She releases me.

She cards her fingers through Hamish’s hair.

“I’ll just pop back into the kitchen and prepare a bottle for the little love. Would you like a cuppa?”

“Fine.”

She dabs at her eyes with the dishcloth.

“I seem to be getting weepier now that I’m older.”

“You were always like that.”

“Oh hush.”

I lay my head back and cradle Hamish closer and let the sound of domesticity wash over me.


	6. Chapter 6

I rock Hamish back and forth.

Footsteps on the stairs.

I sigh.

John looks up from his chair.

Lestrade walks in.

I turn my back and ignore him.

“Morning.”

“Good morning.” John answers.

“Sherlock.” Lestrade says.

Hamish shifts in my arms.

“He’s still feeling stroppy with you.”

I glare at John.

He ignores me.

“Look. I meant what I said. I like your brother but I should have talked to you. Although we both know you still would have been difficult. I’m sorry for sneaking around with Mycroft behind your back.”

Hamish sniffs.

He wasn’t buying that apology either.

“Fine. If that’s all then you can go.”

“Actually, I’ve got a case for you.”

I try to pretend that I’m not interested but my brain was itching for stimulation.

“What kind of case?” John asks.

Knew there was a reason why I loved him so much.

“Body parts in a suitcase.”

Even Hamish looks interested.

He waves his hand around.

“Fine. We’ll go.”

“Good. Thank you.”

He just stands there.

I turn to look at him.

“Well?”

He comes forward to look at Hamish.

Hamish stares back at him before yawning.

Yes. 

Lestrade was not the most stimulating of people.

“Jesus. He looks just like you. Mycroft said Magnussen is the mother. Sorry, was the mother.”

“No. John and I are his parents.”

Lestrade looks at me and then at John before looking back at Hamish.

“Well. I hope you learn some manner.” Lestrade tells Hamish.

Hamish choses that moment to soil himself.

Lestrade looks offended.

I snort.

“I guess not. I’ll text you the address.” He says before walking out.

“I better go and see if Mrs. Hudson can look after Hammy.”

“We’re not calling him that.”

“I am.”

“We’re taking Hamish with us.” I say walking into our room.

I grab a nappy and the wipes.

“I really don’t want to take Hamish to a crime scene.”

“Why not?”

“Because more likely than not, the murderer is still waiting around.”

I lay Hamish on the bed.

“Lestrade wants us to look at body parts in suitcases. They are more likely to be waterside than in a home.”

“How do you know?”

“Why else would they be in suitcases?”

He sighs.

“John.” 

He looks at me.

“It’ll be fine.”

He looks at me before looking down at Hamish.

“Alright. He probably wouldn’t forgive me for making him sit this one out anyways.”

Hamish smiles and kicks his legs.

I kiss John before finishing up with Hamish.

John grabs the necessary items before we make our way to the crime scene.

**********************

“I told you.” I tell John as we walk towards the rocky shore.

“Yeah, yeah.”

He hikes the diaper bag up higher.

I hold Hamish close.

Which was unnecessary seeing as how he was strapped to my chest in some weird device.

He seemed to be enjoying it.

Probably because he was facing forward and not at my chest the way John had originally wanted.

Made more sense.

How else would Hamish see the important things?

“Good. You made it. Oh god.” Lestrade says walking up to us. “I really don’t think I can allow an infant onto a crime scene Sherlock. You’re really pushing it.”

“It’s fine.”

“It is not fine. You know we have to follow regulations more closely now.”

“Don’t be boring Lestrade.”

“John.” Lestrade says.

“Sorry mate. But I was outnumbered.”

“Sherlock. I can’t allow this.”

“Sure you can. Mycroft will take care of any problems. You’re his favorite goldfish remember?”

“Goldfish? What in the bloody hell are you talking about? And I am not going to let you use my relationship with your brother to your advantage.”

“Yes you are.”

I walk towards the taped off area.

John is still talking with Lestrade.

Hamish and I had more important things to do.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing Freak?”

“That’s Donovan. We usually ignore her.”

Hamish gurgles.

“I’m talking to you.” She says walking up to me.

“Are you? I must be ignoring you.”

“You can’t bring a baby to a crime scene. Where did you even get a baby?”

“He’s mine.”

“Who in their right mind would want to have a baby with you?” She smiles.

“I do. And for future reference please keep from making any snide or inappropriate comments in front of our son.” John tells her.

“Your son? Sorry to tell you this John but the kid looks more like the Freak than he does you. I feel sorry for him already.”

John clenches his fists.

“You’re just jealous because I have a child while your uterus dries up all lonely and bitter. Just like the rest of you I might add.” I tell her.

“Alright Donovan, that’s enough.” Lestrade says stepping in.

“Sir, he can’t-”

“Thank you. I’ll take it from here.”

Donovan glares at us before stomping away.

“I’m not saying I’m going to let you bring Hammy in all the time.” Lestrade warns.

“We’re not calling him that.”

Lestrade ignores me.

“I suggest you make the best of it.” He says nodding towards the soggy suitcase.

John and I crouch down.

I make sure to keep a hand on Hamish to keep him steady as we peer into the suitcase.

John pulls back the bin bag.

“Lower leg, foot still attached. Appears to be from a male.”

Cut was clean, couldn’t have been done with a power tool.

Water made it harder to guess how long ago it had been severed.

Skin was still pink, little signs of decomposition.

“We found two other suitcases like this. I’ve got my men sweeping the river for the rest of him.” Lestrade says.

“What did the others contain?” I ask standing.

Hamish look to be enthralled by the leg.

“An arm and the torso.”

“Why would anyone go through all this trouble?” John asks.

All this time and he was still surprised by the evil in people.

“Simple. They wanted to dispose of the body. Cutting it up and transporting it in suitcases made it easier.” I tell him.

John shakes his head and I know he feels bad for the victim.

Waste of time but it made John the person he was.

“We will examine the body part once you’ve delivered them to the morgue. Have Molly text me.”

Lestrade nods.

“So. Nice family outing was it?”

I roll my eyes.

Hamish chews on his hand.

“I agree.” I tell him.

“What?” John asks.

“Hamish thinks the body parts were cut up by someone who knew exactly what they were doing. No signs that the bone was cut at all.”

“He’s too young to be making deductions.” Lestrade says.

Hamish blows bubbles at him.

“I think even you could deduce what that means.” I tell him.

John coughs to hide his laugh. 

“Just have Molly text me.”

“I already said I would didn’t I?”

“The why are you grinning at me like an idiot?”

“Sherlock.” John says.

“This is nice, the five of us around a crime scene.”

I narrow my eyes.

“Of course it would be better if it wasn’t cold out. Might have to try this in doors don’t you think?”

John nods unsure of what exactly Lestrade is hinting at.

Hamish coughs around the fingers he has in his mouth.

Yes.

We knew exactly what he was trying to do.

“We are not having dinner with you and Mycroft.”

“Why not? We’re practically all family.”

I shiver.

Even Hamish looks disturbed.

I smile.

Lestrade looks suspicious.

“Yes. I’m sure you’re right Lestrade. A nice family dinner with wine and chatting. Sounds lovely.”

John frowns up at me.

“Really?” Lestrade asks.

“Sure. How about we schedule something for after hell has frozen over?”

John smiles down at his feet.

“Alright. You don’t have to be a prick about it.”

“I’m sure it seemed like a good idea in your boring little head but I’d rather not be present to witness you and Mycroft making bedroom eyes at each other.”

“Does he really make bedroom eyes at you?” John asks Lestrade genuinely interested.

Lestrade looks flustered.

“Get out of here.”

“Come along John.”

John shakes his head, a smile on his face.

“I’m sure he didn’t see that coming.”

“He was the one that wanted me to be fine with him and my brother shagging.”

“Shh.” He giggles. “Don’t say that in front of the baby.”

“You’re right. It might give him nightmares.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Sherlock. Hi.”

“Molly.”

“How are you?”

“Fine.”

She peers at me expectantly.

“Uhm, how are you?”

“Fine thank you for asking. How’s John?”

“He’s just down the hall visiting with Stamford.”

“Oh, that’s good.”

“Hmm.”

I move around the slab to get a look at the body parts.

I take out my magnifying glass.

Hamish was right.

No damage to the bone, skin was not hacked either.

Nice clean cuts.

Molly shuffles around awkwardly.

I look up at her.

“I was wondering if you might want to have dinner some time.”

“Oh.”

I straighten up.

“You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to.”

“John and I are together.”

“Oh! But I thought he was engaged?”

“That didn’t work out.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” She says blushing.

“It’s fine.”

I had thought Molly and I would have been through enough together that her little crush on me would have faded by now.

She had found out exactly how hard I was to deal with.

First when I had been denied John’s company that first week before I had gone in search of Moriarty’s associates and then when I had come back.

I had never told John this but Molly had been the one to look at my gunshot wound.

She had tried her best to take care of me but I had been desperate for John.

She shuffles her feet.

Crying baby coming our way.

John enters.

“Sorry. Hi Molly.”

“John.” Molly says openly gaping at Hamish.

“Can you take him?”

I take Hamish.

He buries his face in my coat.

“He got upset when Mike went to hug him.”

“Stranger.”

“Right.”

I pat Hamish’s back.

“So sorry Love.” John says kissing Hamish’s head.

Hamish rubs his face in my coat.

“I think he’s hungry.” John says rummaging through the diaper bag for the bottle.

I cradle Hamish in my arm.

He rubs his eyes fussily.

Molly stares at us.

“I can take him if you’re busy.” John says.

“It’s fine.”

He hands me the bottle.

I nudge Hamish’s pouty mouth with the nipple.

He latches on instantly.

Have to remember to have Mycroft supply us with actual breast milk.

“So what have you found?” John asks putting on gloves.

He moves around me to get a better look at the body parts.

“Sorry. But why do the two of you have a baby? Is it your sisters?” She asks John.

“No. He’s ours.” John tells her.

“Yours?”

“Yes.”

“But…how do the two of you have a baby?”

John opens his mouth.

“Surrogate.” I say.

“Right.” John nods.

“Congratulations.” She says.

Her face says otherwise.

She turns away to hide her watery eyes and trembling mouth.

“I’m just going to pop out for a second.” She says moving towards the door.

“Molly. You alright?” John asks.

“Fine. Be back in a bit.” She says walking out.

John sighs, displeased with himself for hurting a friend.

“She’ll get over it.”

“She loves you.”

“Doubtful.”

“Come on Sherlock. I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

“She is in love with a fantasy.”

He sighs.

“Maybe I should just take Hamish home. I don’t want to make her any more uncomfortable.”

“I want you to stay.”

He looks at me.

“Alright.”

“Go on then Doctor.”

He turns his attention back to the leg.

“Our son seems to be onto something. Whoever cut up the body was very careful not to cut through any bone. They cut right through tendons and muscle.”

“Not something any ordinary person would do, only someone with extensive knowledge would know exactly where to cut.”

“You think it’s someone with a background in medicine?”

“High probability.”

“What do you reckon was used to cut up the body? A scalpel would be sharp enough but not big enough to do this.”

“Had to have been a very sharp knife.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Look at the skin. It was cut up with minimal tearing. A saw would have chewed up the skin around the cut, a hatchet or an axe would have removed too much skin and would have shredded the meat. And there is no way that someone would have been able to get this perfect cut had they used any of three aforementioned tools. They would have required the use of too much force to cut the limb free from the rest of the body and might have splintered the bone. More likely it was a sharp knife, it sliced through the meat and the skin cleanly. A knife doesn’t require too much work and we already established that the person knew exactly where they were going to cut.”

“How long do you think it took to do this?”

“Not long. The murderer would have planned it out to the last detail. I need you to text Lestrade. Tell him to send me any information he has on the victim.”

He nods and takes out his phone.

“What do we do in the mean time?”

“We need to find out how long our victim has been dead.”

********************

John and I watch as the wife is taken into custody.

“Alright. Tell me.” Lestrade says.

“We already established that the murderer would have had a background in medicine. The wife is a doctor, she had a motive and the time to commit the murder.”

“But they had just bought a house.” Lestrade says.

“Yes. But she wasn’t going to be sharing that house with her husband. She was going to move in with her lover.”

“Lover?”

“Yes, lover. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice all the male related items at her apartment. Clearly didn’t belong to the husband, she got rid of those a day after his murder.”

“But why would she kill him?”

“I just told you. She didn’t want to be stuck in mundane marriage, she wanted the excitement a new relationship brought.”

“Why didn’t she just divorce him then?” John asks.

“She didn’t want the negative attention it would have brought her. Also she was clearly the most successive of the two and she knew she would have to split her hard earned wages with him down the middle which would include her dream home. The children would have been given to the father as well. She does earn more money but she is always on call and is hardly ever available to provide a stable home for the children. Another motive right there.”

“Okay. So tell me how.”

“She drugged him.”

“Drugged?”

“Yes. There was still some blood in his veins and we tested it.”

“It’s true. He had a high dose of pain medication still present in his system.” John says.

“So she drugged him up and then she cut him up?”

“No.”

“No?”

“She wanted to get rid of him but she would not have had the nerve to just start chopping him up. Our victim is a big burly man, there is a small percentage that he would have woken up while she was dismembering him. So she puts him to sleep and shots him. Higher probability that it would have been in the head.”

“Why do you say that?”

“We have his torso and there is no sign of a bullet to the heart. She wanted to ensure he was dead before she started to cut him up. Also, she would have had to move him and all that jostling might have alerted him that something wasn’t right. So she drugs him, kills him and then cuts him up.”

“And the children?”

“She sent them away to her mother’s for the weekend. It would have afforded her the time to dismember him and pack him away at the suitcases. It also would have given her a reason to move the suitcases. Neighbors confirmed that she made a point in telling them that the children had gone to their grandmothers on a whim. It would have just seemed like she had packed the children some clothes. It also gives an explanation of the location of the suitcases. She would have dumped them as she passed by the river. Have Anderson check the bathroom. That is where she would have done it. I am sure she wasn’t able to get all the blood out from in between the tile.”

“Right. Thank you. Better take your son home, he’s starting to look bored.”

I look at Hamish who is starting to nod off.

“We’ll see you later then.” John says.

I follow him.

“Sherlock.”

I look back at Lestrade.

“I got a memo today from the higher ups.”

“And?”

“Apparently I’m to put you and John on payroll.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to fill out any paperwork or anything. It’s all been taken care of. You just have to keep showing up and doing your usual job. I’m just going to need John to keep a log of all the hours you spend on a case.”

Couldn’t have been Mycroft.

He would have done it years ago.

“Fine.”

He nods and turns away to instruct his team.

I catch up to John.

I lift my hand to hail a cab.

“What did he want?”

“Just wanted to let me know that we are to be compensated for our time.”

“What?”

I climb into the cab.

“221B Baker Street.”

John settles down beside me.

“Why? Can he do that?”

“He got a memo from the ‘higher ups’ according to him.”

“Do you think it’s Mycroft?”

“Doubtful.”

“Then who?”

“Don’t know yet. But I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got the case from watching too many forensic shows on TV (and I mean the real ones, not the ones with actors and stuff). Just thought it might interest Sherlock Holmes if he was real. I have changed some of the circumstances so it’s not exactly like the one on the show. Sorry if it was disturbing to some of you.


	8. Chapter 8

Need breast milk for Hamish. –S.H.

Powdered stuff not to your satisfaction? –M.H.

A couple of gallons a day should suffice. –S.H.

In case you have forgotten, women are not cows. –M.H.

I am sure you can get it from a few different women. –S.H.

And you wouldn’t mind feeding your son milk from a few different women? –M.H.

No. I know how anal you are about perfection. –S.H.

You will not send your nephew any tainted milk. –S.H.

I am touched by your trust. –M.H.

You shouldn’t be. –S.H.

Don’t ruin it Sherlock. –M.H.

By the way, there will be no need for you to testify in Mrs. Augustus’ trial. –M.H.

Her lawyers have agreed that going public will only hurt their client. –M.H.

She has decided to plead guilty. –M.H.

How long? –S.H.

Twenty years. –M.H.

But do not worry, she will be taken out of the country. -M.H.

And after she is done with that, there are a few jobs I will persuade her to take. –M.H.

I snort.

Persuade.

Did you arrange it so that your boyfriend paid me for my services? –S.H.

Because I am still not going to agree to have dinner with you lot. –S.H.

Don’t be ridiculous Sherlock. –M.H.

I only hold a MINOR position in the government. –M.H.

I roll my eyes.

So you keep saying. –S.H.

I am sure you will figure it out. –M.H.

I will procure the milk as soon as possible. –M.H.

Thank you. –S.H.

He does not respond with a snide comment and I am sure he is staring down at his phone in surprise.

The thought of his stupid confused face makes me smile.

I hear Hamish begin to fuss.

I turn off the baby monitor and hurry up to the nursery.

John needed his rest.

Hamish yells.

“Yes. I hear you.”

He sucks on his lip and kicks his legs in the air.

He was telling me that he was hungry and needed to be changed.

“How long until you can do this for yourself?”

He smiles at me.

And I know he is going to make it harder than it had to be.

He kicks at me all the way to the changing table.

He giggles as I lay him down.

“I do not find your childish behavior amusing Hamish.”

He blows bubbles at me.

I sigh.

“We have more important things to discuss.”

He puts his legs down and looks up at me thoughtfully.

“I do not know how much you heard yesterday after we left the crime scene. But apparently your Father and I are going to be paid for our services.”

He smiles and giggles again.

I roll my eyes.

“Yes. It sounds dirty. Now stop being so plebian and pay attention. I have been trying to figure out who would go through the trouble and why. I’ve been working with Lestrade for years and never has the subject of monetary recompense come up.”

His gaze shift inwards and he looks like his mother.

He gets the vacant gaze.

I shiver.

I hurriedly change his nappy and hold him close to my chest.

I bounce him a bit the way I had seen John do.

His hands grab the collar of my shirt.

He coughs.

“That’s who I thought too but he made a point of telling me that he only held a minor position.”

He thumps his little fist against my chest.

“What?”

He does it again.

“Of course! My Father.”

My father had been the British Government before he had retired. 

That is why Mycroft always insisted that he only had a ‘minor’ position.

The name Arthur Holmes carried a lot of weight in many circles.

Something Mycroft admired and sought to surpass.

Father was good at pretending he was a dim old man.

It was mostly for Mummy’s sake.

Underneath those hideous jumpers and the gaze of a tired old man there was still a man who knew how to convey power and respect.

“But why? Why would he do it after all this time? I don’t understand.”

Hamish swings his arms.

I take him down to the kitchen and prepare him a bottle.

“Hopefully you will only have to suffer with this inferior milk for another day.”

He drinks his bottle with gusto.

“I suppose there is no other way. I’ll just have to call him.”

Hamish babbles around his bottle.

I grab a bib and put it on him.

He looks offended.

“You’re the one that insists on mumbling when your mouth is full of that smelly sustenance.”

I sit on my chair and pull out my mobile phone.

I had become very good at feeding him one handed.

It wasn’t it all that hard.

And it wasn’t my fault that John had short arms.

Although my wrist did get tired after a bit.

I stare at my phone before looking down at Hamish.

He looks at my phone before looking back at me.

“I just don’t want them to come over.”

He closes his eyes.

“Yes well, I hope you still think it’s boring when they come over and fuss over you.”

He sighs.

“Fine.”

I dial the number.

“Hello?”

“Hello.”

“Sherlock? Is that you?”

“Of course it’s me.”

“So lovely to hear from you son. How have you been?”

Mummy must be busy, otherwise she would have commandeered the phone by now.

“Fine.”

“Good. Good.”

“I needed to ask you a question.”

“Anything I can help you with. But you know that I’m not as smart as you.”

“Come now Father. This is me you’re talking to.”

He chuckles.

“Yes. Well, ask me your question then.”

“Why did you order the police department to pay me for my services?”

He is quiet and I know he is trying to come up with a good denial.

“I know it was you.”

He clears his throat.

“You know, I never agreed with your mother and brother. I wanted you to get better, of course. I didn’t like seeing my son wasting his beautiful talents away but I always thought it had to be your choice. Otherwise the risk of you relapsing would be greater. I didn’t like knowing that you had to fend for yourself either. Your mother is scared to reinstate your funds completely. I told her you have John. But she was convinced John had left you, I said it was only a matter of time before you two fools figured out how much you love each other. Anyway, you do so much for the police department and they just take the credit without ever giving you anything back. Except insult of course. And I suppose I am still a bit peeved for what they did. They should have always believed in you Sherlock.”

I look down at Hamish as he naps.

“I am not motivated by monetary gain.”

“No, I know that. But that doesn’t mean that you don’t deserve to be paid for your job. You solve more crimes than the whole force put together. And I am sure John would like to know that he is contributing something to the household. You know he isn’t the type to just sit around and be kept. It’s why he works at that awful clinic.”

I smile.

“It’s true.” I say.

“Well. I hope you will accept my help.”

“You are right of course. Thank you Father.”

“I love you my boy.”

“Ditto.”

He chuckles.

“Look after John and do come by to visit some time.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Hamish choses that moment to wail his distaste in the fact that his bottle was empty.

“What…Is that a baby?”

Damn.

I had been seconds away from hanging up.

“Yes.”

“Sherlock. Do you have a baby?”

“Uhh.”

Oh god, I can hear Mummy’s voice in the background.

“Sherlock.” She says.

I close my eyes.

I put the phone on speaker and I settle Hamish against my shoulder and burp him.

“Yes. Hello Mummy.”

“Don’t you ‘hello’ me young man. Since when do you have a child and how dare you not tell me I am a grandmother?”

“I was going to call.”

“Poppycock.”

“It’s true.”

No it wasn’t but she didn’t need to know that.

“Sherlock?” John asks.

I look at John still deliciously rumpled from sleep.

He would be angry later but he would be better in this situation.

He was a soldier after all.

He was used to violence and terrible deaths.

And there was nothing worse than Mummy in a strop.

“I’m a bit busy right now but here’s John.”

I grab the phone and remove it from speaker mode.

I can still here Mummy reprimanding me.

“It’s Mummy. She wants to talk you.”

“Oh.” He says surprised.

He takes the phone.

Immediately he gets a startled looks on his face.

“We are so sorry Mummy. Yes. You are right. We should be ashamed. Yes, he’s our son. No. Mycroft knew.”

I smile.

At least we were dragging Mycroft down with us. 

“Tell her about Lestrade, it will cast the focus away from us.” I whisper to him.

He covers the phone with his hand.

“I will kill you for this Sherlock. I swear.”

“Just give me the phone.”

I take the phone from him and hand him Hamish.

Mummy is still talking.

“Shut up for a moment.” I tell her.

“You have clearly forgotten all manners. You’re still not too old for a spanking.” She threatens.

“John’s not into that.”

“Really? I thought he would have been. He clearly enjoys commanding people.” Mother says thoughtfully.

“What are you telling your mother?” John asks coming closer.

I shoo him away.

“I have important information to convey.” I tell her.

“I’m waiting.”

“Mycroft has met someone.”

“What?”

“Apparently he’s in love.”

“Really? Arthur! My little man is in love!”

I smirk.

Oh yes, this was going to be so much fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know I am making Hamish to be this super genius month old baby with a mind palace and everything but remember that this is Sherlock’s POV and its how he perceives and interprets Hamish’s actions.


	9. Chapter 9

“I have been thinking of the murder case we just solved.”

“That was ages ago.”

“It was four days ago.”

“Like I said, ages.”

“I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Don’t worry John. I decided years ago that I would poison you.”

“What?”

“It’s very easy. You hardly ever pay attention and you trust me too implicitly. I’ve actually drugged you and you didn’t even notice. So no need to worry that I would dismember you.”

“You better be joking right now.”

“I thought you would prefer poison?”

“I don’t mean about that Sherlock.”

“Oh. Yes. You missed two days one time and you didn’t even realize.”

He closes his eyes and takes deep calming breaths.

“Just shut up before you ruin this further.”

“Ruin what?”

He looks at me.

“As I was saying before you started down a disturbing path, I couldn’t stop thinking about the case. It just got me thinking on how people think they want something and when they have it, it turns out that they loved the idea of it more than the actual thing. And you are all I want in this life Sherlock. And I want us to make the most of it, together. Now we’ve been blessed with our son. You know that I am nothing without you. So I was wondering if you felt the same way and if you do, how about we make it official?”

“It never ceases to amaze me how you give yourself courage to ask the question you want to ask by wrapping it in a neat little story. But to answer your question, yes I will marry you. I wouldn’t want to deny you the opportunity to spend the rest of your life by my side.”

He laughs and comes over to kiss me.

“And I wouldn’t be able to endure this life without you either.” I whisper against his lips.

Footsteps on the stairs.

I groan.

“I hope I am not interrupting anything?” Mycroft asks.

“You know you always do.”

“John.” Mycroft says with a nod.

“Hello.”

Mycroft walks in and takes an uninvited seat in John’s chair.

I glare at him.

“Tea?” John asks.

“Tea would be lovely, thank you.”

John goes to prepare the tea.

“I got a very interesting call this morning.”

Mummy.

I smile.

“I doubt it was that interesting.”

He tries to control his glare.

“Mummy has found out about my relationship with Gregory. Of course it I knew it was you. Question is, why?”

“You know how she worries about her Little Man.”

He isn’t able to control his glare this time.

“It was not your place.”

“But it is brother dear. You bring the wrath of Mummy on me whenever it suits you, I thought I could give her some good news for a change.”

“She has informed me that she and Father will be in town in a few days.”

“Yes. I tried to stop them but you know Mummy. I suppose you better prepare Lestrade.”

“There is no reason to.”

“You know Mummy will insist on meeting him. And Father won’t stop her because he enjoys to watch her torture us.”

He thins his lips.

“Why do you insist on making a mess of things?”

“Mess? I’m helping you.”

“How?”

“If you keep putting it off, Lestrade won’t think you are serious about your relationship. He told me as much the other day.”

Maybe not in those exact words.

“What did he say exactly?”

“He said your relationship might not last.”

Mycroft sits back and presses his hands together.

“It’s kind of weird to see him do that.” John says setting down the tea cups.

I pull John down on me.

He shifts, feeling uncomfortable to be sitting on my thigh.

“We have some news.” I tell my brother.

He comes back from the archives in his mind.

“Finally decided to make an honest man out of my brother?” Mycroft asks John.

“Yes, I suppose.” John smiles.

“I am sure Mummy will be so happy. She will insist on hosting an engagement party and a party for Hamish.”

“I don’t think that necessary.” John says.

“And yet she will insist. You’ve met our mother, how many people do you think have denied her what she wants?”

Very few.

“I don’t want anything over the top. Maybe we can convince her to hold the party here with Mrs. Hudson, Greg, Molly, and you of course.” He tells my brother.

“If anyone can convince her then I suppose it will be you.” Mycroft says standing.

Hamish’s cries come over the intercom.

“I’ll get him.” John says.

“It’s fine. I’ll go. Just sit here and chat with your brother.” I tell Mycroft pushing him back down into the chair.

John glares at me.

I walk into our bedroom where Hamish was taking a nap.

He kicks his legs.

“Alright, stop it.”

I pick him up.

He wipes his face on my shirt.

“There is no reason for you to do that. There is no good experiment that involves mucus and my shirt.”

He blows bubbles at me.

“Let’s not deny your Uncle Mycroft the joy of your presence.”

He smiles.

I carry him out into the sitting room.

I stand by John’s chair.

Mycroft looks up at me.

I place Hamish in his arms.

They both look startled.

John presses his lips together and I know he is worried that Mycroft will drop our son.

“I just thought it was time you two were introduced properly.”

Hamish stares up at Mycroft.

“Hello Hamish.”

Hamish blinks slowly up at Mycroft.

“Yes. He is always this boring.” I tell my son.

Mycroft glares up at me.

Hamish kicks at Mycroft.

“It seems that he likes attention as well.” Mycroft says. “There is no need to kick at me. You need to learn patience.”

“He’s just a baby.” John says.

“It’s never too early to learn.”

Hamish gets a mischievous look in his eyes.

Maybe it was time to cut this family gathering short.

I reach for Hamish.

As Mycroft hoists him up by his under arms, Hamish throws up all over Mycroft.

“Oh god. I am so sorry.” John says standing.

It was a bit gross and yet so funny.

I take Hamish into the kitchen to wipe his mouth.

I can’t stop the smile from breaking out over my face.

Hamish giggles.

“That was amazing.” I say kissing his head.

I take a dish cloth over to Mycroft.

He looks disgusted.

He takes the towel and wipes his jacket and shirt.

But it was no use.

Even if he managed to clean the milk vomit, there was no disguising that smell.

“You know that this is all normal. Babies usually throw up like this all the time.” John says.

Mycroft glares at him.

“Thank you Doctor Watson. I suppose that I have overstayed my welcome. Good day. Sherlock, Hamish.”

I wave Hamish’s hand his way.

He walks out with as much dignity as he can.

I snort.

“It’s not funny.” John says.

But I can tell that his lips are twitching.

“Of course it was. Another successful family gathering.”

“I would have said that we would cover his dry cleaning but I am not sure I want to know how much that would set us back.”

“Don’t worry about it. He’ll just throw it away.”

“Really? His suit looked expensive.”

“Of course it is. But Mycroft enjoys shopping. I am sure we helped him come up with an excuse to buy himself new wardrobe.”

“Do you think Hamish did that on purpose? I mean, to me he’s just a baby but he is your son.”

The ‘and Magnussen’s’ goes unsaid.

I look down at Hamish.

He’s sucking on one of my shirt buttons.

I shrug.

I didn’t want John to worry that our son could turn into a blackmailing sociopath.

He wouldn’t.

But John always worried.

“Maybe he thought you needed some cheering up.”

“Well, maybe next time you can do it without pissing your Uncle off?” John tells Hamish.

Hamish laughs.

No promises.

“Your Father and I are getting married.” I tell Hamish as I pry the button out of his mouth.

He reaches for John.

John cradles Hamish.

“I don’t want him to call me Father. It’s too…strict. I want him to call me Dad.”

“Fine.”

“You can be Father if you want.”

“No.”

“How about Papa then?”

“Acceptable.”

“So when do you suppose we’ll get married?”

“You have always wanted a spring wedding so we’ll do it then. You will take my name of course.”

“Why?”

“So that our son can have the same last name as his parents.”

“Doesn’t that mean that you’ll be taking my last name as well?”

“Yes.”

“Good. That’s…good.”

“You already said that.”

“I know.”

I grab his arm and pull him close.

I kiss him.

Hamish tugs on my shirt.

I release John and bend to kiss our sons cheek.

“I think Mycroft is right, Hammy likes attention.”

“And why shouldn’t he? He is a beautiful brilliant baby. He deserves attention.”

“Just try to be a bit nicer?” John tells Hamish. “And no more throwing up on people for kicks.”

Hamish pats John’s face.

“You’re not going to listen to me are you?” John says resigned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, the joy of milk vomit. It is both projectile and disgusting. But funny when it happens to other people :)


	10. Chapter 10

“To John and Sherlock. I hope you survive the marriage mate.” Lestrade tells John.

I roll my eyes.

Mrs. Hudson giggles.

“Cheers!”

“Where is your gentleman, Detective?” Mrs. Hudson asks Lestrade.

“Mycroft doesn’t like gatherings, they make him uncomfortable.” I say.

“Like someone else I know.” Lestrade says. “He’s been very busy at work.” He tells Mrs. Hudson.

“So sorry we’re late.” Molly says coming in.

“We?” John asks.

“Yes.” She says all smiles.

Footsteps.

Male by the weight on the stairs and the gait.

Tall, well. Tallish.

A young man comes into the flat.

Oh god.

“Everyone, this is Tom. Tom, this is everyone.” Molly introduces.

“Hello.” He says shaking hands with everyone.

John smiles.

“This is…something.”

“To say the least.” I tell him taking a sip of my champagne.

“So, is it serious with you two?” Lestrade asks Molly.

Molly nods enthusiastically.

“Oh yes. He’s just so completely different from anyone else I know.”

John giggles into my arm.

Oh yes, so different.

Doesn’t look like anyone we know at all.

And how dare she buy him a coat like that?

I mean, it wasn’t like mine.

She could never afford it, neither could he for that matter.

But it was close enough.

And that hideous scarf and the frizzy hair.

And the cheap suit.

“Alright. Stop putting him down.” John tells me.

“What?”

“You have your ‘I am superior’ face.”

“I am superior.”

“Just be glad she found someone.”

“I give it two months.”

“Shh. Don’t be a prat.”

Hamish makes babbling noises through the baby monitor.

John excuses himself and comes back with Hamish.

Hamish claps his hands when he sees everyone.

Yes, so many to deduce.

Hamish points at Tom.

“That is Tom.” I tell him.

He looks at me before looking back at Molly’s boyfriend.

He blows bubbles.

Lestrade snorts.

“What does that mean?” Molly asks.

“Who is this handsome young man?” Tom asks coming around the coffee table.

He shakes Hamish’s hand.

Hamish wrenches his hand away and screams at Tom.

“Okay, alright.” John says trying to calm Hamish down.

“Don’t touch him.” I tell Tom.

He stares at me us in surprise.

“He’s got some good lungs.” Lestrade says.

John turns away with Hamish and tries to distract him.

Hamish turns to watch Tom before burying his face in John’s jumper.

“Sorry.” Tom says.

“Come and have some champagne.” Mrs. Hudson says.

Tom goes back to the couch.

Molly looks worried.

“He’s fine. He’s just being cranky.” John says trying to lighten the mood.

Hamish complains about Tom.

“I completely agree.” I tell him.

“What?” Lestrade says.

I wave him away.

The doorbell rings downstairs.

“I’ll go get it.” Mrs. Hudson says standing.

John nods at me.

“I’ve got it.” I say.

“Thank you dear.”

She had drunk four glasses of champagne already.

I didn’t need her falling down the stairs and hurting her good hip.

I hurry down the stairs.

I throw the door open.

“Loki!” 

Mummy throws her arms around my neck.

Father smiles at me.

“So sorry to drop by unannounced but if we had told you we had arrived you would have gone out.” Father says.

“It’s fine.”

“How’s John?” Mummy asks releasing me.

“Fine.”

“And the baby?” Father asks.

“We are all fine.”

“I hope we haven’t interrupted anything.” Mummy says.

No she’s not.

“Mrs. Hudson and some of our friends are throwing us an engagement party.”

“Engagement party!” Mummy yells.

“Congratulations my boy.”

I nod at them.

“Go on up then.” I tell them.

Mummy hurries up the stairs.

Father pats me on the back.

“So what is my grandson’s name?”

“Hamish Augustus Watson-Holmes.”

“A fine name.”

“Yes.”

“Hamish. That’s John’s middle name.”

“Yes.”

He walks up the stairs.

I take a moment before following.

Mummy is already fussing over Hamish who is eating the attention up.

Father is trying not to crowd Hamish.

“Oh Sherlock, your parents. How nice of you to invite them.” Mrs. Hudson says taking another drink of her champagne.

“Yes it is. Could someone push Mrs. Hudson’s drink to one side?”

“Your parents?” Molly asks surprised.

“Your parents?!” Lestrade demands.

“Yes.” I say smirking at him. “Now keep it down. Don’t be such a drama queen.”

“Drama queen. Me? That is a bit hypocrite of you isn’t it?”

“No. Now shut up.”

He splutters angrily.

Father is trying to hold a conversation with John over Mummy’s enthusiastic praises of Hamish.

“Mummy. Father.”

They look at me.

Lestrade is making slicing motions with his hands.

“You know Mrs. Hudson.”

“Oh yes. Martha, how lovely to see you again.” Mummy tells her.

“And you. Both of you.”

“This is Molly and Tom.”

“Molly. How are you dear?” Mummy asks.

“Fine. Tom and I are together and we’re having a quite lot of sex. It’s good.”

John chokes on his champagne.

Hamish pats his chest.

“Thanks Love.” John croaks.

I look at Molly.

Oh god that woman.

No filter at all.

She blushes.

Tom looks uncomfortable.

“Good for you.” Father tells her.

“Yes. Enjoy it while it lasts.” Mummy says.

“Of course, it hasn’t ended for us just yet.” Father says smiling at Mummy.

Comment deleted.

“Oh stop it.” Mummy says light hitting Father’s chest.

“This is Gavin Lestrade.” I say.

“Greg.” John says.

Lestrade glares at me.

It’s not my fault his name is so forgettable.

“Gregory Lestrade.” Mummy says narrowing her eyes.

“Yes. Nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Holmes.” He says walking over and shaking their hands.

“Where is Mycroft? He should be here with you.” Father says.

“The work of the British Government is never done. Apparently.” I say.

“Sherlock.” John says.

“What?”

“You arrested my Loki.” Mummy says.

“Loki?” Lestrade asks confused.

“Sherlock.” John supplies helpfully.

“Oh. Uhh, yes. I was ordered by my Superintendent and it’s not something I could ignore.”

“Lestrade is our friend. He did the best he could to help us.” John says.

“There is nothing else to talk about. We set him up and we put him in a precarious situation. For which I apologize.” I say.

Lestrade gapes at me.

“Well, I am glad you worked it out. Has Mycroft apologized to you?” Father asks.

Lestrade shift uncomfortably.

“Maybe we can discuss this when we are in private? Now let me get you both some champagne.” John says.

Lestrade looks relieved.

John hands Hamish over to Mummy.

Mummy reigns kisses all over his face.

Hamish laughs.

“How long have you and Mike been together then?” Father asks.

“Mike?”

I roll my eyes.

“Mycroft.” I say.

“Two years this Christmas.”

“And we’re just finding out now.” Mummy tells Father.

“Wait. Christmas? Why didn’t he invite you to our family gathering?” Father asks.

Lestrade certainly knew how to dig himself into a hole.

“Uhh, what?” Lestrade asks feigning ignorance.

Thought it might be real ignorance.

Hard to tell.

“Cake!” John says. “We have cake and some fancy finger sandwiches.”

Hamish claps his hands.

“Not actually made from real fingers.” I elaborate.

Hamish pouts.

Yes, I was disappointed as well.

Not because I wanted to eat finger sandwiches but because everyone knew they were finger sandwiches and yet no one had reported the person who was cutting off fingers to make the sandwiches.

Oh god, I’m starting to sound like John in my head.

John and Molly bring out the sandwiches for everyone and I open another bottle of champagne. 

I serve Mummy and Father.

I make sure that Mrs. Hudson’s refill is apple juice.

She’s too drunk now to notice the difference.

“You will call me Mummy.”

“Uhh.”

“I prefer if you call me Arthur or Art.”

“I am touched but-”

“I insist.” Mummy says.

More like demanded.

Lestrade looks startled.

“And you and Mycroft will join us for brunch tomorrow.” Mummy says with finality.

“I don’t think-”

“Sherlock.” Mummy says cutting Lestrade off. “You, John and Hamish will join us of course.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“How about some tea? Sherlock?” John says nodding towards the kitchen.

“What?”

“Come on. Come help me.”

I follow John into the kitchen.

“What is so important? I could be losing interesting interrogation moments.”

He refills the kettle with water.

“And why are you serving tea? I just opened more champagne.”

“Your mother is scaring Greg.”

“He needs to grow a spine. You met her and you were perfectly fine.”

“Well yes but-”

“Maybe they like you better.”

He pretends he’s not flattered.

“I don’t think-”

“Or they just felt like they knew you through your blog. A lot of who you are is reflected in your romanticized version of our cases.”

“Hey now.”

“Besides, Father is still a bit peeved about the involvement the police had in my arrest and faked demise. He thinks they should have believed in me. They think you were my damsel in distress and that Lestrade is a backstabber.”

“I am not a damsel in distress.”

“Yes you are. You practically swoon every time I kiss you.”

“Shut up. And you’re one to talk about swooning. The couch cushions have been permanently imprinted with your swooning form.”

I reach into the refrigerator for one of Hamish’s bottles.

I heat it up in the microwave.

“We need to get one of those bottle warming things.” I say.

“We need to show your parents that Greg is a good man.”

“They can figure that out for themselves. And of course Mycroft isn’t here to defend his boyfriend. I can’t wait to see what happens tomorrow.”

“We are not going.”

“What? Yes we are.”

I take the bottle out and test the milk.

Perfect.

“No we are not. They need time to know Greg and you are just going to interfere.”

“Fine. I’ll just have one of my homeless network stand close by with a camcorder.”

“You are impossible.”

“And that’s why you love me.”

“No. But I’ve learned to live around it.”

“Shut up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who don’t remember, Tom is Molly’s boyfriend (Season 3) who just happens to dress and have hair kind of like Sherlock (though not really).


	11. Chapter 11

“Thank you so very much Sherlock. I never thought you could possibly be more involved in my relationship with Gregory. I don’t why. You always did like to interfere in things.”

“Oh look Hamish. It’s your Uncle Mycroft.”

I turn to look at the doorway where Mycroft is standing, disapproval written all over his face.

“It seems that you didn’t scare him away last time. What a shame.”

Hamish points at Mycroft and claps his hands.

“Mycroft. Hello.” John says coming into the sitting room.

Mycroft ignores him.

“Don’t be rude.” I tell him.

He frowns at me.

“Why can’t you ever leave well enough alone?”

“How was brunch?” I smile.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know. I see the Homeless Network is still working for you.”

“Would you have preferred if I hacked the security system and captured the British Government being scolded by his Mummy?”

“Don’t be so childish Sherlock. Not like you could have hacked the system anyways. I am afraid it is too advanced for you.”

“Funny how you always say that it’s me who’s being childish when it is in fact you who is being childish. And I thought you would have been happy I wasn’t there?”

“The least you could have done is show up like you were supposed to. At least that way we could have turned the attention over to Hamish.”

“You are not using my son to ignore your parents.” John tells him.

We both ignore him.

“John said we couldn’t go.”

“And you always like to follow orders.”

“I didn’t order him.” John denies.

Yes he did.

“Oh come off it Mycroft, don’t pretend like you didn’t know Mummy would try to rope you into something. It’s why you didn’t come to our engagement party. You knew the exact moment they arrived to London and you chose to send Lestrade into the lion’s den unprepared. Don’t try to blame this on me Mycroft.”

“Did you really not come to the party because you’re scared of your Mum?” John asks.

Hamish giggles.

“I have never been so embarrassed in my life. Gregory might be rethinking our relationship in this very moment.” Mycroft complains.

I should have known it was sex that was making him overemotional.

I shiver in disgust.

“Sex.” I mouth at Hamish.

He looks at Mycroft and scrunches up his face.

“I know.” I tell him.

“Oh. I’m sure everything is going to be fine. Won’t it Sherlock?” John says.

I stare at John.

He nods at Mycroft.

Oh. 

Right.

“That’s certainly not the most embarrassed you’ve been. I doubt you have forgotten that time with the frogs, you and that freckled girl. Though I am sure we can help create a new memory can’t we Hamish?”

Hamish smiles.

Mycroft rolls his eyes.

“I was more scared than embarrassed then. She looked like she was going to have a heart attack.” He says.

I snort remembering.

“I’m almost afraid to ask this but what happened with the frogs and the freckled girl?” John asks.

Mycroft sighs.

“Her name was Laurel and I liked her very much.” He says.

“This was before he decided that caring was not an advantage.” I fill in.

John nods.

“Anyway, when I finally decided I was going to tell her that I liked her-”

“Loved.”

“Sherlock decided that it was the perfect opportunity to measure how many frogs could fit atop of a human head.”

“It was an experiment.”

“Oh god.” John says.

“Of course they were not ordinary frogs. He got them from the pond and they were quite large.”

“Almost the size of Hamish’s head. They were perfect.”

“Laurel and I were standing under the gazebo and I leaned in to kiss her cheek when suddenly there were huge frogs raining down on us.”

“She thought it was a biblical plague.” I laugh.

“She became quite hysterical.”

“You should have seen Mycroft’s face.” I say.

Hamish giggles.

“Apparently one of the frogs managed to slide down the back of her shirt.”

John giggles.

“Mummy came running out of the house to see what the commotion was about. You can imagine what happened then. Laurel was jumping around trying to get the frog out of her shirt, Mummy was shouting at Sherlock to get down from atop the gazebo and I-”

“Just stood there like an idiot.”

“Well, that ended that relationship. Before it even started and I have dear Sherlock to thank for it.”

“It wouldn’t have worked out anyways.”

“Why not?” John asks.

“Laurel’s family was very religious and Mummy is a woman of science.” Mycroft explains.

“That’s not it. Laurel is a lesbian.”

“No she is not. She decided to become a nun because of the stupid stunt you pulled. It really scared her.”

“Nope. She’s a lesbian.”

He sighs angrily.

“Maybe she thought you were a lesbian too. You were losing the weight remember? And your hips did look round and ample. Plus you also had a good pair of tits.” I say.

John laughs.

“Shit. Sorry.” He says trying to contain his laughter.

Mycroft takes a deep breath.

“I care greatly about Gregory. And I am asking you as your brother, don’t let Mummy run him off.”

Oh god.

I was getting that weird feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Sentiment.

Ugh.

“Fine.”

“Good. John, Hamish. Brother.”

I wave him away.

He leaves.

“If there had been less insults and glaring I would say that was a very touching brotherly moment.”

I glare at John.

“So how exactly are we going to convince your mother that Greg is a good guy?”

“Very simple.”

I hand over Hamish and pull out my phone.

John sits down in his chair.

“Hello?”

“Hello Mummy.”

“Loki! I hope you have a good reason for not showing up young man.”

“Unimportant. There is no reason for you to dislike Lestrade. I am sure Father has his files, you know he is very good at his job and a good father to his daughters. Plus you’ve met him. He has made mistakes but he has always been there for me when it counted. He helped me and he gave me something to keep me off the drugs. You know that. Now stop treating him like a criminal.”

“Well.” She clears her throat.

John smiles softly at me and I can tell he is getting choked up with emotion.

Hamish smiles sleepily at me.

I roll my eyes at the pair of them.

“I mean it Mummy. Lestrade is my friend and Mycroft likes him, a lot. Lestrade likes him too for some unknown reason.”

“Sherlock.” She scolds.

“What? It’s Mycroft.”

“You impossible child. Alright, I will let him charm me. He’s already half way there.”

“Good.”

“I am glad you called and to know that you care enough about your friends.”

“Of course.”

“Alright dear. Your father and I want to spend some time with our grandchild.”

“I am sure we can arrange something.”

“Good.”

“And Mummy.”

“Yes?”

“Promise me John will always be your favorite.”

She laughs.

“Oh Loki! I hope you realize how lucky you are to have John.”

I smile at John.

“I do. So very lucky.”

“By the way, I am reinstating your funds again.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

“I love you my dear boy.”

“I uhh, I love you too Mummy.”

*******************

“Sherlock?”

Lestrade walks into the flat carrying a file.

“What is it?”

“I have something for you.”

“What?”

“First. I wanted to say thank you for what you did. I thought your Mum was going to make me disappear into some unknown corner of the world.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mummy doesn’t have the power to do that.”

“Thank god.”

“Father does.”

He glares at me.

“And she’s your Mother now too.”

“Oh god!”

I smile.

“But seriously, thank you.”

He throws his arms around me.

“No need to become over emotional.” I say patting his back.

He steps back.

“I am glad you consider me your friend. I never would have thought. Especially not in the beginning.”

“Stranger things have happened I suppose.”

“You mean like me getting with your brother and you and John hooking up?”

“Something like that.”

He laughs.

“So what do you have for me?”

“Official documents.”

“Your brother was going to drop them by but I wanted to do it.”

I take the folder.

“These are deeds and bonds.”

“Yes. Magnussen’s lawyer sent these over this morning.”

I sit in my chair.

She had left Hamish everything.

“You and John are his estate overseers.”

Appledore, CAM News buildings, condos, bank accounts, other properties.

I look at Lestrade.

“How long do you think she had been planning this? Things like this take time to prepare.” He asks.

“For years before she came to me with the offer. Three years at least.”

“That had got to be one of the richest kids.”

“Finally.”

“What?”

“A chance to explore Appledore! John! JOHN!”

“Sherlock, what is it?” John asks pounding down the stairs with a partially dressed Hamish.

“Pack our bags.”

“What?”

“We are going on holiday.”

“On holiday? Us?”

“That’s what I said now go pack.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“She left us everything.”

“Greg. How are you?”

“Fine. You?”

“Pretty good. Do you have any idea what he is going on about?”

“Appledore, apparently. Whatever that is.”

“How are we going to get into Appledore?” John asks.

“Magnussen left Hamish everything and until he is of legal age, we are to oversee his estate and that includes Appledore.”

“Wait. She just left him everything?”

“Yes John! Pay attention.”

“Okay. And why are we going on holiday exactly?”

“I finally have a chance to explore Appledore.”

“But you remember that the vaults don’t exist right?”

“Doesn’t matter. Think of all the things she must have. We have to leave now.”

“Alright then. Hammy, it seems like we are going to spend some time in the country.”


	12. Chapter 12

“Doctor Watson.”

“Detective Inspector Carter. How are you?”

I look up from the book I was reading.

“Just fine. I heard you were in this part of the country and I decided to drop by.”

“Greg told you.”

“Yeah.”

John and this Carter laugh.

I put my book down and go to see who this man was and what he wanted.

John led him into the covered patio where Hamish was lying on his back on his blanket.

He waves his toy skull around before sticking it back in his mouth.

“Ah, Sherlock Holmes.” Carter says holding out his hand.

I shake it.

This Carter fellow was older than Lestrade by at least ten years.

He had been with the police for almost thirty years and was planning to retire soon.

He had a smallish dog, a gift to his wife.

His children had all moved away from home and he and his wife planned to go and live somewhere sunnier.

“Sherlock. This is the Inspector you consulted on that case with the car and the boomerang.”

“Oh yes. The porn addict with a heart condition.”

“Yes.” Carter says.

“And why are you here?”

“I have a case.”

“What kind of case?”

“A man was found dead in his home, his head was bashed in. No signs of forced entry and we have no leads.”

He hands me pictures from the crime scene.

There was a pool of blood at the bottom of the stairs and bloody footsteps leading back up the stairs.

I take a look at the photographs of the victim.

He was in his bed, looked like he had been sleeping.

The pillow under his head was soaked with blood which meant that the wound was to the back of the head.

John leans into me to take a look at the pictures.

“So he was killed at the bottom of the stairs?”

“Looks like it.” I say.

“So maybe he knew his attacker?”

“Probably.”

“Will you come take a look?”

“John?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Looks interesting.”

“Hamish?”

He looks at me.

“Want to go to a crime scene?”

“Now hold on.” Carter says.

Hamish smiles clearly interested.

“We will go.” I say.

***********************

“There is a quite a lot of blood.” John says.

“Why did the murderer bother taking the victim back up to the room? It doesn’t make sense John.”

“And why not clean up a bit? Just look at the blood splatter on the wall and on the banister.”

Hamish stares at the blood as John points it out, his skull clutched in his little hands.

He sucks on his lip and I know he is trying to figure it out.

People will say it is impossible for an infant to know so much.

To see so much.

But I know he can and that he is.

It makes me proud to be the father of this child.

I kiss his head.

He smiles up at me.

I push sentiment to a side again and go back to the Work.

“Look at the footprints. They are covered in blood and going by the gait, it was a man. But there is no blood from the victim. That gash on his head obviously bled a lot going by the blood down here and on the bed. If the victim had been carried back up the stairs, there would be a trail besides the bloody footprints. Same thing if he had been dragged. But there is nothing.”

“Maybe the murderer covered his head?”

Hamish shakes his head.

“I agree. If the murderer didn’t bother to clean up, why try to conceal the fact that he took the victim up the stairs? It’s obvious he did seeing as how the victim is in his bed.”

John scratches his head.

I walk up the stairs following the trail of footprints.

They stopped at the top of the stairs.

“None of this makes sense John.”

“So does this mean you are enjoying it?”

“Of course. Best holiday so far.”

Hamish makes agreeable noises.

John smiles at us.

I take a closer look at the footprints.

The impression was not that of trainers or dress shoes.

The soles were worn down so the impression they left behind was light and unmatchable.

Damn it.

I walk into the bedroom.

The victim must have blacked out after the blow to the head.

The blood had trickled down his neck going by the dried blood.

The back of his nightgown was bloody as were his shoulders.

Wait.

Trickled down.

“Why would he be covered in blood?”

“Because he has a pretty nasty gash on his head?”

“No John. Think about it. If you took a nasty blow the way he did to the back of the head, which way would you fall?”

Hamish drops his skull onto the floor, the toy lands face down.

Smart boy.

“Forward.” John says bending to pick up the toy.

“Exactly. So the blood would trickle down over your face. But look, his back and his shoulders are covered in blood. Meaning that he would have been upright.”

“But if that had been the case, why is there a pool of blood at the bottom of the stairs?”

“That my dear John is what I intend to find out.”

I walk into the bathroom.

Evidence that someone had showered.

I check the towels.

A large towel was missing and he was clearly out of fresh hand towels.

I hurry down the stairs.

“Laundry room.”

One of the Sergeants points the way.

I open the washer.

And I have found the missing hand towels.

And a shirt.

John had been right.

Someone had tried to stop the bleeding.

Stupid, stupid.

“Sherlock.” John says joining me.

I take out the towels.

They had dried in the washer.

Been there for three days.

A slipper falls out.

I pick it up and turn it over.

The bloody footprints.

I take the slipper and compare the sole to those of the footprints.

They matched.

I look again at the spray of blood on the railing and the wall.

Victim would have had to be coming down the stairs to match the direction of the spray.

But if he was killed at the bottom of the stairs why would the spray of blood be halfway between the top of the stairs and the bottom?

Why-

“Oh.”

“Have you figured it out?” Carter asks coming over.

“It wasn’t a murder.”

“What?”

I smile up at him.

“There was no murder.”

“What do you mean there was no murder?”

Hamish stares up at me from where he is strapped to John’s chest.

“This whole time we have been following the assumption that the victim had been killed at the bottom of the stairs and then taken into the bedroom by the murderer.”

“Yes.” Carter says.

“I’ve been so slow!”

Hamish agrees and I glare at him.

He smiles around his skull which is once again in his mouth.

Oh god, he was going to be insufferable once he was able to talk.

“Sherlock. Just tell us what you’ve found.” John says.

“There was never any one else in this house but the victim.”

“What do you mean?” Carter frowns.

“Look at the railing and the wound on the back of the victims head. Usually staircases are made with wooden posts but not this one. No, this house was made to appear more modern and new age. So the banister is made of iron with sharp edges and designs that look appealing but what the designer didn’t stop to think about was safety.”

“What had that got to do with anything?” Carter asks.

I glare at him.

“The victim fell and hit his head on the railing which resulted with a big gash to the back of the head. As I have said before, the edges are sharp. If you don’t believe me then pass your finger along the edge, the handrail was smoothed out but they didn’t bother with the banister. He would have cut his head open at the moment of impact. That is how you would get this type of blood splatter on the wall. It would have been made as the victim fell after he had cut the back of his head. He tumbled all the way to the bottom of the stairs where he laid for approximately fifteen minutes going by the large pool of blood. A fall like that and a blow to the back of the head would have made him lose consciousness. When he woke up he would have realized that he had cut himself but he didn’t think it was anything too severe. That was his first mistake. So he tries to stop the bleeding by putting pressure on the wound with a towel. Hence the bloody footprints on the stairs. But even after soaking through six hand towels he still chooses not to seek medical help. No, instead he decided to take a shower in order to clean himself up. Mistake number two. The hot shower he took would not have helped with the bleeding, instead it made the bleeding all the worse. After his shower he would have started to feel the effects of the blood loss. And yet he still walks down the stairs to wash his bloody clothes and the towels. After climbing the stairs a second time he would have would have started feeling faint. So he decides to lie down. Mistake number three. He would have realized his mistake far too late as he died of blood loss in his bed.”

“Brilliant.” John smiles.

I smile at him.

Hamish kicks his legs and squeals in excitement.

I touch his head.

Carter closes his mouth and clears his throat.

“I just can’t believe it.”

“I am right. Just look at the evidence.”

“No. I don’t mean about that. I mean, Lestrade is right about you. He said you were astonishingly brilliant.”

I blink my eyes.

What?

“I’ve read the papers of course. But bloody hell, you really are good.”

“Thank you.”

John stands tall and proud at my side.

“He’s Sherlock Holmes, of course he’s good.” He says.

I look down at him.

“If that is all.” He says.

Carter nods.

“I would be glad to have you help me out on some cases Mr. Holmes. You too Doctor Watson and Hamish.”

“Thank you.” John says.

He grabs my arm and leads me out of the house.

“So this whole time it had been an accidental death. I mean, an actual accidental death.”

“Yes I know. It was magnificent.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Yes it is.”

“Well, yes.”

I smirk.

“You want to have sex.”

Hamish tries to look up at John.

“Oh god yes.” John says covering Hamish’s ears.

Hamish whines at being deprived from the conversation.

“I thought I was the one that was supposed to get off on peculiar crimes?”

“It’s not the crime Sherlock, it’s you.”

“Do you want me to make deductions while we are being intimate?”

“Of course not. Let me think you can be a bit romantic.”

I laugh.

Hamish starts throwing a tantrum.

“Alright.” John says removing his hands.

Hamish pouts.

“You didn’t miss much. Your dad and I are going to have sex once we get back to Appledore and you are going to entertain yourself while we do so. If you manage to behave yourself then I will buy you that other toy skull you have your eyes on.”

He thinks about it.

“Sherlock!”

“Save the name screaming for later.” I wink.

“You are ruining the mood.”

“No I’m not.”

“I hate how you make me so angry yet I can’t stop being turned on.”

“I’ve told you, it’s part of my charm.”

Hamish looks skeptical.

“Shut up, it is.” I tell him.

He makes a shrugging motion.

I sigh.

Children.


	13. Chapter 13

“It’s good to be home. I mean, I enjoyed our time away but I am glad we are back.”

Hamish agrees enthusiastically with John.

I open the door and carry in the suitcases.

John follows with Hamish.

“Mrs. Hudson!” I yell.

“You’re back. I am so glad.” She says coming over to us.

She reaches for Hamish who instantly lifts his arms out towards her.

She takes him and rains kisses down onto his face.

Hamish nestles his head under her chin.

She rocks him side to side.

“Oh the little love. I’ve missed him so much.”

“We missed you too.” John says with a smile.

Mrs. Hudson laughs.

“I missed you boys too.”

She kisses John’s cheek before kissing mine.

“I’ll just take the luggage up the stairs.” I say.

“I’ll help you.”

“No. It’s fine. Go on and have a cuppa with Mrs. Hudson. I know you want to.”

“Thank you.” He says kissing me on the lips before following Mrs. Hudson back to her flat.

I carry the suitcases up the stairs.

I open the door to the sitting room and I stop at the doorway.

“Hello Mr. Holmes.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I need your help.” She says standing.

“Last time I helped you it cost you the game.”

She smiles.

“This time it’s different.”

“How?”

“It’s personal.”

I look at her.

She had aged a bit and she had put on five pounds.

A pound for every year of marriage.

Curious.

No children, had been living in Scotland.

Has two cats and she had recently taken up gardening.

“Sherlock. I forgot to grab Hammy’s blanket. It’s….”

I look at John.

He is staring at The Woman.

His stare instantly turns into a glare.

“What are you doing here?” He demands. "I-" 

“Whatever you want, the answer is no. I think you caused enough damage the last time you were here. Now get out.” He says cutting her off.

“Look at you Doctor Watson. As fierce as ever. Congratulations on your engagement by the way.”

Hamish cries down stairs.

Irene raises an eyebrow.

“When I come back, I want her gone Sherlock.”

“I need help. From both of you.”

“No.” John says.

“John.” I tell him.

He was jealous.

Irrational yet charming.

I squeeze his hand in mine.

He takes a deep breath and relaxes his shoulders.

“Fine. We’ll do it your way. It’s always your way.”

He stomps down the stairs.

I indicate for Irene to take a seat on the chair by the desk.

John comes back with Hamish.

Hamish stares at our visitor.

“And what is your name?” Irene asks him.

John clutches him closer to his chest.

“Hamish.” I say.

“Hamish.” She says with a smile. “So you did put that name to use.”

“Get to the point. What do you want?” John asks sitting in his chair.

I sit in mine.

“It’s my husband. He’s missing.”

“Husband? You’re gay.” John says.

“Yes. And the last time I saw you, you weren’t. And now look at us both.”

“You think it’s someone still looking for you.” I tell her.

“Yes.”

I press my hands together.

Hamish tries to copy me.

He succeeds for a moment before becoming distracted with his fingers.

“You risked a lot by coming here.”

“I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Yes. Must be hard for you now that Moriarty is dead.” John tells her.

“I owed him a favor.”

“Favor?” John asks interested.

“I didn’t figure out what he liked. Turns out that it was the same thing I liked.” She says looking at me.

John clears his throat.

Hamish stares at Irene.

“How long has he been missing?”

“Three weeks.”

“And you have since then filled a missing person’s report?”

“Yes. But they haven’t found anything. They had the audacity of suggesting that he had left me.”

“Would he?” John asks.

“No.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Beginning of the month at the airport. He is an engineer and the company he works for sent him on a business trip.”

“Where?” 

“London.”

Interesting.

“That’s why you came.”

“Yes. I’ve been looking for him on my own but I haven’t gotten anywhere. His flight arrived on time, he picked up his luggage and checked in at the hotel where he was staying and then he just disappeared.”

“He didn’t call you when he arrived?” John frowns.

She shakes her head.

“His things are still at the hotel?”

“No.”

“What?”

“There is nothing there. I checked. It’s spotless, like no one has been in that room since Emile rented it.”

Emile.

Not Scottish then.

“Cleaning staff?”

“No. I asked.”

“Sure?”

“Positive.”

“Why did you wait three weeks?”

“I know you said that I had to stay away. I didn’t want to ruin my cover by coming back but I just couldn’t wait around. I gave the police a chance. Now you are my only hope of finding my husband. Please Mr. Holmes.”

I look at John.

He nods.

“What is his name?”

“Emile Valladon.”

“An engineer from?”

“Belgium.”

Belgium.

“You have a photograph of him?”

She reaches into her clutch and pulls out a photograph.

“This is the picture on his passport.” She says handing it over.

Early forties, dark hair, medium height and weight.

He did not look like someone who worked indoors.

No.

This was a person who was used to doing a lot of leg work.

I pass the photograph over to John.

He looks at it.

“Handsome fellow.” John says.

“Thank you.” Irene smiles.

Hamish reaches for the photograph and John shows it to him.

Hamish looks at it before looking at me.

Yes.

There was something not quite right.

The photograph did not match the description.

But who would be capable enough to fool The Woman?

And for five years.

“There has to be footage of him somewhere. I will be in touch.” I tell her.

She nods.

“Thank you.”

**********************

“You think there is something not right with the husband.” John says quietly.

I press my nose to the back of his neck.

“Yes.”

He sighs.

I tighten my arms around him.

He always did enjoy snuggling.

I blink my eyes in the darkness of our room.

“I just don’t want her to use you again.”

“She won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“I won’t let her. I am in love with you, we have a son and we are to be married in six months’ time. There is nothing The Woman has to offer me.”

“If you are sure.”

“John.”

He sighs.

“I know how you were that first time. You were…heart broken. You kept the phone.”

“I kept it as a reminder.”

“Reminder?”

“Yes. A reminder to not allow a case to become personal. Emotions are a distraction and not good for The Work.”

“Sherlock.” He turns in my arms so that we are face to face.

I entwine our legs together.

“She manipulated you and used your inexperience with romantic feelings against you.”

“Yes and I assure you that it won’t happen again.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I will do my best to avoid it.”

He touches my face.

“Just promise me that if your repressed emotions for her come back, that you won’t keep it from me. I don’t want us to have secrets from each other Sherlock.”

“Alright.”

“Good. Now give me a kiss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Irene case is from ‘The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes’ movie. I did switch it up a bit (Irene isn’t in the movie though the female protagonist manipulates and uses Sherlock the way Irene did on the show), but Emile Valladon is a character from the movie.


	14. Chapter 14

“According to my Homeless Network, your husband Emile arrived as you say. He was picked up from the hotel the same day he checked in by an unmarked car. He did not have his luggage with him. That was picked up days later by men in expensive suits.”

Unmarked cars, men in expensive suits.

This was starting to sound like something Mycroft would do.

Hamish makes small agreeing noises.

John shushes him and encourages him to sleep.

Irene frowns.

“Maybe someone from the company?” She asks.

“You don’t believe that.”

“No.”

“Did he know your past history?”

“No. I didn’t tell him, I didn’t see the point.”

“Wait. You have been married to this bloke for five years and you didn’t tell him you were a dominatrix?” John asks.

“No. I didn’t want to bring him into that. I was starting over.”

“Still.” John says.

He continues to slowly rock Hamish from side to side.

Hamish blinks his eyes sleepily before giving in to nap time.

“What name did he know you by?” I ask.

“Gabrielle.”

“Hmm. It is becoming much more likely that the skeletons in your closet have come back for revenge.”

“Do you…do you think he is still alive?”

“It is much more likely that he is not.”

She tries to contain her tears but she is unsuccessful.

John looks at me with disapproval.

What?

I didn’t make her cry.

I hand her a tissue.

She should have known that the longer a person is missing, the less likely they are to be found alive.

Hamish babbles in his sleep.

John continues to rock him.

“I need you to tell me who might still be after you.”

She muffles her sobs with the tissue.

“Who would still want to get to you after all this time? Moriarty’s men have all been taken care of. Maybe terrorist groups?”

She continues to sob.

I roll my eyes.

“I wish you would stop doing that.”

“Sherlock.” John says quietly.

My patience was wearing thin.

She was not being helpful at all.

She dabs at her eyes and continues to cry.

Mrs. Hudson comes up.

“Sorry. I didn’t know you had company. Hammy left his skull downstairs.”

John goes over to speak with her quietly.

I stand up and I walk over to Irene.

I lean in close, making sure that her eyes met mine.

“Stop it!” I tell her.

She takes a few deep breaths.

“Sherlock.” John says.

Mrs. Hudson stares at me with disapproval.

“I am sorry.” Irene says.

At least she had snapped out of it.

“If we are to find out what happened to your husband then you cannot act like a grief stricken widow.”

“You are right.” She says dabbing at her eyes.

Mrs. Hudson looks like she’s about to scold me.

“Mrs. Hudson, why don’t you go down to the kitchen, get a towel, and wipe that look of disappointment off your face?”

She huffs and walks down the stairs.

“Sherlock.” John says again, anger on his face.

“It’s alright Doctor Watson.”

“See John? It’s alright.”

He glares at me.

Hamish starts to snore.

“There is still quite a few people who would want revenge against me but they would have believed that I was truly dead. We managed to fool your brother and according to you, he is the British Government.”

“Yes but you faked your death once already. They might not have all been convinced the second time no matter what my brother’s report said.”

“What other possibilities have you thought of?”

“Maybe it has nothing to do with you at all. You described a man who spent a lot of time working in doors. But the photograph you presented me with gives the impression of a man who does a lot of leg work.”

“Emile is a complex man.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that there has always been more to my husband. More than what he shared with me.”

“So there are things you don’t know about him just like he doesn’t know everything about you.” John says.

Irene nods.

“The man he makes himself out to be never did match to what I saw in him. But I was no one to pry, look at me. I am The Woman and I was playing house and considering motherhood.”

“So in sum, we do not know who would want to hurt your husband or why.”

“It would seem to be that way, yes.”

Damn.

I was going to need help with this.

From _him _.__

__At least he owed me a favor._ _

__************************_ _

__“Sherlock, Hammy.”_ _

__We look at John._ _

__“I need you both to promise me that you will behave.”_ _

__Hamish whines and I agree._ _

__“No. Promise me you will behave.” John says with a serious face._ _

__I sigh._ _

__“We promise.”_ _

__To try to behave._ _Hamish agrees._ _

__“And Hammy, don’t throw up on your Uncle again.”_ _

__Hamish waves his arm._ _

__“No worries John.”_ _

__He sighs._ _

__“Alright. Get out of here.”_ _

__“Sit down and relax John. Hamish and I will be fine.”_ _

__“It’s the other people out there that I’m worried about.”_ _

__I kiss him before leaving the flat with Hamish._ _

__The ride to the Diogenes was spent in silence._ _

__Irene was right, there was little to go on._ _

__Emile could be anywhere by now, whether he was alive or dead was yet to be seen._ _

__Though I was leaning more towards the possibility that he was dead._ _

__“Sir, we’ve arrived.”_ _

__I pay him before leaving the cab making sure I have Hamish and the diaper bag._ _

__I walk into the Diogenes club._ _

__Hamish looks around in interest._ _

__He stares at one of the members who had fallen asleep in his chair._ _

__He points the skull at him._ _

__“No. Still alive.”_ _

__He pouts._ _

__“Now remember. If Mycroft won’t help, I need you to yell as loud as you can. If there is anything more he hates, it’s a scene.” I whisper to him._ _

__Hamish babbles an affirmative._ _

__I walk down the hall to Mycroft’s private room._ _

__Lestrade was there._ _

__He was sitting across from Mycroft._ _

__He looks up at me from the police files he was reading._ _

__“Oh, you’re here too. Well at least you’ve both got your trousers on.”_ _

__“We can change that if you want.” Lestrade says with a cheeky smile._ _

__I roll my eyes._ _

__Hamish makes a gagging sound._ _

__Lestrade stares at him._ _

__Hamish stares back._ _

__I leave them to their staring contest._ _

__I was confident that Hamish would be victorious._ _

__I look at Mycroft who is pretending not to hear us._ _

__“I need your help.”_ _

__He looks up at me from the paper he was reading._ _

__“With what?”_ _

__I take a deep breath._ _

__“Irene Adler. Well, she’s changed her name now but it’s irrelevant to the case.”_ _

__“Irene Adler?”_ _

__He sets down the paper._ _

__“Yes.”_ _

__“She’s dead.” Lestrade tells me._ _

__“Nope.”_ _

__He stares at me for a moment before closing his eyes._ _

__He shakes his head._ _

__“Gregory, can I have a moment with my brother? Thank you.”_ _

__Lestrade looks like he’s about to protest._ _

__“Take Hamish.” I say handing him over. “He likes to stare at the old men out there. Just don’t let him grab any lit cigars. John would never forgive me if our son developed a smoking habit at such a young age. Plus I don’t want to have to share my nicotine patches.”_ _

__Lestrade tries to find a way to best hold Hamish._ _

__Hamish looks like he’s about to protest about being handed off._ _

__“Lestrade has a badge.”_ _

__He looks up at Lestrade._ _

__“Give him your badge.”_ _

__“What?” Lestrade asks._ _

__“Give him your badge.”_ _

__“Fine.”_ _

__Lestrade takes out his badge and hands it over to Hamish._ _

__Hamish takes it and stares at it for a moment._ _

__He looks at me and waves his arm._ _

__“It’s fine now. You can go.” I tell Lestrade._ _

__Lestrade sighs but he walks out with Hamish._ _

__“So, what does The Woman want?”_ _

__“She needs my help.”_ _

__“How can you trust her?”_ _

__“Her husband is missing.”_ _

__“Ah. And because she fed you a little story that means she is no longer a threat?”_ _

__“He’s disappeared.”_ _

__“Voluntarily?”_ _

__“That is what I need to figure out.”_ _

__“I see.”_ _

__“I need video footage.”_ _

__“Do not get involved in this Sherlock.”_ _

__I frown at him._ _

__“Why not?”_ _

__He stands and paces away._ _

__“Mycroft.”_ _

__“I will not have you getting involved with that Woman again. You have John and Hamish to think of now.”_ _

__“You know something.”_ _

__He turns to look at me._ _

__“Why do you think that?”_ _

__I narrow my eyes at him._ _

__“What do you know Mycroft?”_ _

__“Last time you helped The Woman you became a security risk.”_ _

__“And now?”_ _

__“There are things above the pay grade of a Consulting Detective but I know you will not leave this alone. Emile Valladon is dead, he was killed three weeks ago by the German Government. You will find his body in Brussels.”_ _

__“The German Government?”_ _

__“He was working for them on a secret project, nothing you need to know about. Once the project was completed Mr. Valladon stole the plans and he came to us. He came here with the intention of meeting with me. Unfortunately for him his employers got to him first.”_ _

__“And you didn’t stop them?”_ _

__“Mr. Valladon stole a project funded by the German Government. They had every right to take back what was theirs.”_ _

__“And you would not risk a confrontation with the Germans.”_ _

__“Certainly not. We have more important things to worry about. Now is not the time to start a war with the Germans.”_ _

__“Are you certain that he was disposed of?”_ _

__“My dear Sherlock, there are certain affairs that need to be dealt with on an altogether different level.”_ _

__So he was killed._ _

__And he was probably buried in an unmarked grave._ _

__“So sorry. But he started making a scene and the waiters were about to throw our asses out.” Lestrade says coming in._ _

__Hamish reaches for me._ _

__I take him in my arms and wipe his tears away._ _

__He smiles at me and waves his arm in Lestrade’s direction._ _

__I smile at Hamish._ _

__Hamish giggles._ _

__“What? What’s so funny?” Lestrade asks._ _

__“He was playing with you.”_ _

__“Playing?”_ _

__“Yes. It was a sleeping bust.”_ _

__Hamish laughs._ _

__“A sleeping bust?” Lestrade asks confused._ _

__Hamish waves the badge around._ _

__“Oh god.” Lestrade says._ _

__“You are going to get me banished from this place.” Mycroft tells me._ _

__“Me? I’ve never cause a scene here.”_ _

__Yet._ _

__“And you practically own the place.”_ _

__“Do you?” Lestrade asks._ _

__Mycroft waves an arm at him._ _

__Hamish copies it._ _

__“I always thought John was crazy to get involved with you and now look at me! I am in love with a Holmes and my nephew, apparently, gets his kicks by throwing up on people and scaring sleeping old men half to death.” Lestrade says._ _

__Hamish laughs and tucks the badge in his little hand with his skull._ _

__“I’m not getting my badge back am I?”_ _

__“Nope.”_ _

__He sighs._ _

__Mycroft rubs his back._ _

__Hamish makes a gagging sound again._ _

__Mycroft rolls his eyes._ _

__Hamish tries to copy him but ends up looking cross eyed._ _

__I smile._ _

__My phone beeps in my pocket._ _

__I hand Hamish over to Lestrade._ _

__“Oi! I am not your baby handler.”_ _

__“Yes you are.”_ _

__Hamish shows Lestrade his skull._ _

__Have you burned the Diogenes to the ground yet? –J.W._ _

__Of course not. –S.H._ _

__But our son did perform a sleeping bust. –S.H._ _

__Lestrade was a witness. –S.H._ _

__Sleeping bust? –J.W._ _

__He didn’t kill anyone did he? –J.W._ _

__No. –S.H._ _

__That’s good. –J.W._ _

__On our way back. Case has been solved. –S.H._ _

__And? What did you find? –J.W._ _

__Mr. Valladon is dead. –S.H._ _

__Dead dead or Irene dead? –J.W._ _

__Actually dead. –S.H._ _

__Hamish reaches for my phone._ _

__Hamish wants to say hi. –S.H._ _

__Ewjiakjwef0932njafnjw2309 –H.W.H._ _

__I sign my son’s initials before sending the message._ _

__Hello Hammy. Daddy misses you. –J.W._ _

__4i398danfkn3w09j9djf24nrkmdfnskv –H.W.H._ _

__“I am surprised he doesn’t know how to spell already.” Lestrade says._ _

__Hamish blows bubbles at him._ _

__“Don’t encourage him.” Mycroft tell him._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Movie Sherlock did actually did yell ‘Stop it!’ in the woman’s face. It seemed like something TV Sherlock would do. And no, Hamish’s messages aren’t code for anything. I just mashed my fingers against the keyboard.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am making this the last chapter. But (yes, but) I have so much more material that I have decided to add a third installment. This was supposed to be a one part story but apparently the Watson-Holmes are just too entertaining to be contained.

“I feel bad for her.”

I look at John.

“She will be fine John.”

“No. I know what it’s like to lose someone you care about so deeply. It never goes away.”

His eyes are haunted for a moment.

Hamish throws his skull at John.

John smiles down at him.

“She is strong.”

He looks at me.

“No one is strong enough when faced with death.”

I will never be able to escape my greatest lie.

“I wasn’t dead John.”

“To me you were.”

He looks back at Hamish.

He smiles at our son but his eyes have become lost in memories I will never be able to erase from his head no matter how much I try.

My eyes inexplicably burn with tears.

I blink them away.

“Mummy called.”

“Hmm?” He asks looking at me.

“She expects us all at the cottage for Christmas.”

“Might be nice.”

I snort.

“Don’t be naïve John.”

“What? Your parents are good people.”

“Good people? My father has connections in place neither of us want to know about and Mummy can make grown men wet themselves in fear.”

“Don’t be dramatic. We like them don’t we Hammy?”

Hamish passes gas.

“See?”

John looks at me.

“We are not telling your parents that we are not going. No matter what either of you says. It’s Hammy’s first Christmas. He should spend it with family.”

“We are his family and what about Mrs. Hudson?”

“Don’t pretend you’re doing it for her. Besides, Mummy called me too. She has extended her invitation to Mrs. Hudson.”

Damn that woman.

“We are going and that is final.”

“I don’t want to and you can’t make me.”

Hamish agrees.

“Sherlock.”

I look at John.

His look says there will be no sex for the foreseeable future if we don’t go with minimal fussing.

And I really do like having sex with John.

I sigh angrily.

“Fine.”

Hamish blows bubbles at me.

“Oh shut up Hamish.”

He waves his fist in my direction.

“You don’t have the dexterity to win a fight.”

He kicks his short little legs.

“Maybe but then I’d have to be close enough for you to kick me. I doubt you would be able to kick me hard enough to cause any damage or long lasting pain.”

He smiles and looks at my crotch.

I narrow my eyes at him.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

His eyes tell me that he would.

In fact he’s tried it before but he’d been unsuccessful.

He was three months old now, he was heavier and his coordination was getting better.

“You’re lucky I love you.”

His pink tongue sneaks out between his lips.

“Maybe Mycroft is right. You should start to learn manners.”

He blows bubbles again.

John frowns at us.

“It’s kind of creepy the way you guys do that.”

Hamish makes kissy faces at John.

John leans down to kiss Hamish.

Hamish send me a cheeky smile.

“Oh please. John will always love me more. I was here first in case you’ve forgotten.”

Hamish pouts.

“Hey now.” John tells me. “Don’t be mean to him.”

“Me? He’s the one that started it.”

“He’s a baby.”

“He’s old enough.”

John takes a deep breath.

“Alright. That is enough from both of you. No more fighting. It’s Christmas.”

“No it’s not.”

“Well it’s December and it’s a time to be jolly.”

Jolly?

Hamish frowns.

“What is there to be jolly about? I don’t even know what jolly means.”

Hamish agrees.

“Never mind that, there’s a lot of shopping to be done.” He says standing.

“Shopping?”

Hamish looks alarmed.

“Yes shopping. We have to make a list.”

“Isn’t that usually reserved for Father Christmas?” I snort.

Hamish giggles.

John glares at me.

“Alright. A list about what?”

“Sherlock.”

“Hmm?”

“You didn’t….”

“I didn’t what?”

He looks at Hamish before leaning in closer to me.

“You didn’t tell him that Father Christmas isn’t real right?”

I look at Hamish before looking back at John.

“No. I thought he would see how obvious that was on his own. Do you need me to explain it now?”

“Not really.”

“Hamish?”

He waves at me to continue.

“The concept of Father Christmas was a noble one. A man delivered handmade toys to children who did not have much. He became sort of a legend. Of course now Father Christmas is used by parents to manipulate their children into behaving during the year. There is always that threat that if you do not behave then Father Christmas won’t bring you anything or will leave a lump of coal in your stocking. And companies use it as a time to advertise and sell expensive cheap toys. So the parents usually end up spending more than they actually have. And of course, if there really was a fat man in a red suit breaking into people’s houses I am sure he would have been caught by now.”

Hamish makes curious noises.

“Well think about it. If he’s that fat then how can he possibly climb down the chimney with a sack full of presents without breaking a leg or getting stuck? And he’d have to break in through a window or something when he comes to houses that don’t have chimneys. He’s also been made into a pedophile too hasn’t he John? Doesn’t that song say that he’s always watching the children so he knows if they’re asleep or not before he sneaks into their houses?”

“Jesus Christ Sherlock.”

“I’ll show you a video on YouTube. Those hideous songs are everywhere and I am sure they will have pictures of Father Christmas. Well, not the real one obviously. Maybe later while John is shopping we can stop by and see if there are any fake Father Christmases at the shops.”

Hamish raises his arms and I pick him up before sitting in front of my laptop.

“This is not what I meant by telling you lot to get into the Christmas spirit, not at all.” John says.

Hamish and I wave him away.

**********************

“Merry Christmas! Oh John dear, how are you?”

“Hello Mummy, Merry Christmas.”

Mummy kisses both his cheeks before moving aside to allow John entry.

“And you two! Look at you!”

I roll my eyes.

Hamish has a bored look on his face.

“Merry Christmas.” I mumble.

Hamish mumbles something too.

Although it’s not Merry Christmas.

I snort.

“Come in, come in. Your Father has just finished putting the finishing touches on his holiday punch.”

“Yippee.”

I walk in, kissing Mummy’s cheek as I pass.

“Martha! Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas Evelyn.”

Mrs. Hudson stays behind chatting with Mummy.

Lestrade and Mycroft are already there.

“Merry Christmas.” Lestrade says.

“Yes. Merry Christmas.” Mycroft says.

“Ditto.”

I place Hamish in Lestrade’s lap as I take off my coat and my scarf.

“Oi.”

I ignore Lestrade’s protests.

I bend down to remove Hamish’s little coat and his hat.

I hang them up before picking Hamish back up.

John was placing the presents under the tree.

I go over so that Hamish can stare at the twinkling lights.

“Here we are.” Father says bringing a tray with cups containing his punch. “John, Sherlock. Merry Christmas. Hamish, I hope you’ve been a good boy.”

Hamish waves him away.

“Merry Christmas.” John and I say.

Father hands John a cup of punch.

“Ta.” John says taking a sip.

I take mine.

Hamish reaches for it.

I set my cup of punch down and steal the spoon off of Lestrade’s tea cup.

“Hey!”

“You’re not using it.”

I grab a little punch with the spoon and I give it to Hamish.

He drinks it before scrunching up his face.

“Too sweet?” John asks.

Hamish coughs.

Yes.

I pat his back.

“I want to make a toast.” Mummy says.

“Oh god.” I mutter.

“Sherlock.” John says.

“I am so glad that I have both my boys here and that this year they have both found their significant others. This time last year we thought we had lost John to some woman, but thank god that he listened to his heart and now here he is with my Loki.”

John clears his throat.

“And Hamish. I am so very glad that you are here. We love you very much and your parents are lucky to have such a smart handsome young man. We never thought we’d see grandchildren.” Mummy says sniffing.

Mrs. Hudson dabs at her eyes too.

“Babbling.” I say.

Hamish agrees.

John shushes us.

“I also want to congratulate Mike and Lestrade on their two year anniversary. Gregory, I know we didn’t start out on the right foot but I am glad to have you as part of this family.”

“Thank you.” Lestrade says.

“I hope that next year I will have two grandchildren running around here.” Mummy says winking at Mycroft and Lestrade.

I snort.

John raises his eyebrows.

Mycroft rolls his eyes.

Lestrade looks uncomfortable.

Hamish blows bubbles.

“It’s fine. You were the first.” I tell him.

He mumbles to himself.

“Now let us have dinner so that we can open presents before Hamish falls asleep.” Father says.

I feed Hamish while John eats and after he is done, we exchange so that I can eat.

Not that I ate much.

Christmas goose was not my favorite.

I preferred the roasted chicken John made for me at home.

But the cranberry sauce was good.

“Alright. Let us open some presents.” I say standing and taking a napping Hamish from John.

“Sherlock. Not everyone is finished eating.”

“It’s not my fault they eat so slowly.”

“It’s fine. I want Hamish to be awake when he opens our present.” Mycroft says standing.

“Our?” John asks.

“Yes, from Gregory and me.”

Mycroft was excited about something.

This couldn’t be good.

We sit around the tree.

Hamish squirms with excitement.

“Open mine first.” Mycroft says.

He brings a medium sized box over.

Hamish plays with the ribbon.

“Did the box just move?” John asks.

Mycroft smirks.

Oh no.

John removes the lid and a small English bulldog stares up at us.

Hamish squeals.

John removes the puppy from the box.

He holds the puppy up close to Hamish.

“Look Hamish. A dog for us to perform experiments on.” I say.

This was perfect.

“Sherlock!” They all says disapprovingly.

I look at them.

“What?”

“Sherlock you are not using the dog for experiments.” John says.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not right.”

“Hmm. We’ll see.”

“No. Not we’ll see. You are not experimenting on the dog.”

I smile at him.

We’ll see.

“Sherlock.” John says warningly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you have enjoyed this part of the story. Next installment will start where this one left off.


End file.
